


Ghosts of War

by Green_Eyed_Dragon_Fanfiction



Series: Winter's War [2]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-05
Updated: 2018-04-30
Packaged: 2019-02-28 19:37:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 21
Words: 71,742
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13278450
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Green_Eyed_Dragon_Fanfiction/pseuds/Green_Eyed_Dragon_Fanfiction
Summary: After the events of Winter’s War, your and Bucky’s lives are changed forever (and not for the better). Severe torture and experimentation at the hands of Hydra leaves you shells of your former selves, your past together completely erased and replaced with deadly Hydra programming.Any time either of you starts to remember, your minds are wiped…But that doesn’t stop the nearly unearthly force drawing you and the Winter Soldier together.





	1. Chapter 1

[Originally posted by flyngdream](https://tmblr.co/ZVy6Qn286CJPI)

_On March 4th, 1945 Steve Rogers, the Howling Commandos, and an Allied force lead by Colonel Chester Phillips defeated Johann Schmidt at Hydra’s main base of operations. Although Hydra’s plan was foiled, both the source of power Hydra had been utilizing and Captain Steve Rogers were lost when Schmidt’s plane- the Valkyrie- was crashed by the Captain, preventing Armageddon for the people of the world._

_On April 19th, 1945 Operation Paperclip was set into motion. Allied forces recruited Nazi scientists to their ranks in the hopes that their knowledge and expertise could help win the war. One such scientist, Doctor Arnim Zola, was recruited to SHIELD under this project at the beginning of 1946._

_On September 2nd, 1945 World War II was officially declared as finished when Japan surrendered after the bombings of Nagasaki and Hiroshima. The world rejoiced as the bloodiest conflict in human history finally came to an end.  
_

* * *

**Russia - April 1946**

_“Where are you keeping them?”_ Zola asked, followed closely by the two guards who’d been hired for his protection.

 _“They’re both in deep freeze,”_ the former lead scientist- Mikhailov- informed him, his Russian accent thick.

 _“What are their statuses?”_ Zola asked as the man led him around the labyrinthine facility. Say what you would about Schmidt, but at least he gave Zola a proper workspace. 

_“The man was still alive. Barely. The woman was dead. Missing half her legs, a few fingers. Skin badly damaged by the cold,”_ the scientist informed him as he paused at a door to punch a security code into a keypad.

 _“What of the woman’s suit? The one she was wearing when you found her?”_ Zola asked, narrowing his eyes at the scientist, who suddenly shifted nervously. 

_“How did you know about-”_

_“Please, Doctor Mikhailov. Everyone knows about the great Blitzkrieg. I know more about the woman than most,”_ Zola said, glaring at the other scientist.  

The doctor nodded. _“We salvaged what we could of it. The boots she was so famous for were lost to the Danube river for a long time. Some fisherman found one about a month ago _a few miles down from where she fell_. We’ve been doing our best to reverse engineer her technology, but it’s slow going. She was years ahead of anything we’ve been doing,”_ Mikhailov explained. 

_“And why do you keep her body?”_ Zola asked, eyebrow raised. _“I understand the man. He survived the fall, which should have been impossible; he makes a good subject for tests. But why her?”_

 _“Ah, yes. Well… she should have been in even worse off condition than she is. They both should have been liquefied internally from the fall, but their internal organs are still mostly intact, though that’s more true in the man, of course. We’ve been studying blood and tissue samples in the hopes of unraveling the mysteries locked away in their DNA. There was also the hope that, with more advanced medical technology, we might be able to unlock the secrets in her head. Tap her mind. Harness its knowledge,”_ he explained as they made their way down a narrow, steep, spiraling staircase. 

Zola nodded thoughtfully, mind racing a hundred different directions at once. _“Well, I know it was my work that made his survival possible, but all of my data on the experiments I did on him were lost when his blasted friend Captain America blew up the base I’d been working in. I had no reason to believe any of it had even been successful.”_

Even with that news, though, Mikhailov looked ecstatic. _“Then you have the best chance out of all of us to unlock the serum’s formula.”_

Zola nodded as they entered a freezing room. Even with thick layers of glass between them, the cold seeped from the cryostasis pods and snuck into one’s bones. He walked up to the glass, smug smirk on his face as he beheld the person in the pod. 

Yes, he knew this man well. 

He hadn’t, though, when he’d first met him. He was just another soldier sent to his lab for testing. He had no idea he’d been experimenting on the best friend of Captain America. 

No, Zola knew this man’s name now. He knew the names of all eight of the soldiers that had made his life a living hell for an entire year. 

“James Buchanan Barnes…” he muttered darkly, glaring at the man frozen behind the glass. _“And where is his beloved?”_ Zola asked with a sneer, not tearing his eyes from the frosted glass.

 _“Just behind you on the other side of the room, Doctor Zola,”_ Mikhailov said quietly. 

Zola turned slowly, smile growing as he laid eyes on your body. He appraised you with a scientist’s eye, though the vindictive, triumphant feeling in his chest was personal. _“Yes… the damage is quite extensive…”_ he said, studying where your legs ended in pulpy stumps, bone protruding grotesquely. Quite a few of your fingers were missing, too. _“He only lost an arm, you said?”_ Zola asked, glancing over his shoulder at Mikhailov, eyebrow raised.

 _“That is correct, yes. His left arm was lost. We were… unable to recover it,”_ Mikhailov informed Zola, looking nervous. 

Zola only smiled, though. _“That is fine. We will just make him a new one.”_

 _“A new arm?”_ Mikhailov asked, clearly confused. 

Zola merely ignored him and turned back to your pod, brows furrowed as he thought. “But you, fraulein… what shall we do with you?”

 _“Doctor… Doctor Zola?”_ Mikhailov asked, eyeing the shorter man warily.

Zola’s attention snapped to the other man, who immediately froze. _“I will need equipment.”_

_“Whatever you need, Doctor Zola.”_

* * *

**Russia - Some Months Later  
**

**Bucky’s POV**

Everything was numb. Numb and dark.

In fact, Bucky couldn’t see anything at all. If it weren’t for the faint voices he heard, he might have even assumed he was dead. 

Slowly, his eyes opened, letting in the light. Shapes swam in his vision, dark and confusing as his mind tried to process them. It was like he was looking through a dirty, grimy window. 

“Sergeant Barnes.” 

[Originally posted by cptnstevens](https://tmblr.co/ZUfMzo1nAzeOd)

The voice stirred something in him. Hatred. 

It served as a focusing point for his lagging mind, and Doctor Arnim Zola swam into view. Everything around him was still blurry, but Bucky’s hatred for this one man sharpened his focus unlike anything else. 

Bucky reached out to wrap a hand around the filthy weasel’s fat, slimy neck… but his arm didn’t move. A glance down at his wrist revealed he was strapped down to whatever he was laying on- it seemed like a metal bed. His attention was captured, however, when Zola shone a light in both of his eyes.

 _“Oh, that’s very good. He’s responding to outside stimuli. Take note of that,”_ Zola told his assistant. 

Bucky glanced around the room, vision spinning but clearing up marginally as his brain decided to start working again. At least a half dozen doctors surrounded him, bustling about doing who knew what. 

Zola must have noticed him looking, because he smiled that sickly smile that Bucky hated and hovered above him. “Just relax, Sergeant Barnes. The procedure has already begun.” 

“Go… to… hell…” Bucky whispered, voice failing him. Even getting those three words out took a toll on him. 

Zola _tsked_ and shook his head slowly. “Now, now, Sergeant. Is zat any way to speak in front of the misses?” Zola asked, voice slick and oily. 

Bucky’s blood boiled. How dare he talk about you like that. How dare he defile your memory by mentioning you using that disgusting mouth of his. Bucky couldn’t cuss him out but his fury must have shown in his eyes because Zola’s grin widened. He disappeared from Bucky’s field of vision, but he could sense the man next to his head, at the head of the bed. 

“I do not know why you are so upset vith me. I’m the one who vill return your love to you, after all,” Zola said, voice dripping with fake compassion. He took Bucky’s head firmly between his palms and tilted it up. 

It took Bucky’s eyes a moment to focus but when they did, his heart broke all over again. 

There, not even twenty feet away, was _you_ , suspended in a cylindrical tank. The liquid inside was a sea green. Tubes stuck out of you every which way and a mask was placed firmly over your face, obscuring nearly all of your features. Your hair snaked out around your head in every direction like a halo. 

The most horrific part of seeing his dead wife in the hands of these psychopaths, though, was the fact that you’d obviously been experimented on. Even from this distance Bucky could see the telltale glint of metal on your fingers and what remained of your legs. You were naked; every scar you’d earned at Hydra’s hands back in the Italian facility displayed plain as day for anyone to see. Bucky had memorized all of them, but there were new ones he didn’t recognize; either from the fall or from these freaks, he didn’t know. 

Bucky was afraid. 

Not for himself… No, he was afraid that they’d actually succeed. That they’d bring you back. That you’d be subjected to whatever further torture they saw fit. He wanted you back more than anything… but not like this. Not as a lab rat, or a tool for Hydra, or something for Zola to toy with.

“I didn’t haff to do zis, you know. Any of zis. I could haff taken a villing volunteer instead of choosing you. I could haff left her body to rot; just taken the secrets from her suit and been happy with zat. I could haff left you unconscious for this surgery. I didn’t even haff to put her within view… but out of your reach. 

“…

“But I vanted you to suffer, Sergeant Barnes. I vanted to hurt you in ways you have never been hurt. I could haff ruled the world. I would haff, if not for you and that bumbling band of idiots. 

“… But Captain Rogers is dead, along with Schmidt, so I vill have to take my fury out on the two of you.” 

Bucky’s heart sank. Steve? Dead? Zola had to be lying. There was no way Steve lost to that pissbucket, Schmidt. No, it was just another ploy to hurt Bucky. 

Zola dropped Bucky’s head unceremoniously back down onto the hard metal table and Bucky winced in pain as his vision swam once again. One of the nurses came over and shoved a mouth guard none too gently into his mouth. 

“Now, Sergeant Barnes… zis vill hurt,” Zola said ominously as one of the doctors approached Bucky with a bone saw. Bucky felt a thrill of terror when it turned on, eyes bugging as it approached what was left of his left arm. 

Then the bone saw began ripping through the flesh and bone of his arm and Bucky started screaming. 

* * *

Bucky must have passed out. He opened his eyes slowly, letting out a choked cry when his brain registered the pain in his left arm.

Or, rather, what was left of it. They’d taken even more of his arm off; barely anything was left beyond the shoulder socket now. 

“Oh, good. You are awake.”

Bucky’s gaze fell to Zola, who was working less than ten feet away at a desk, scribbling notes and making calculations. At the sound of Bucky’s voice, though, he’d looked up from his work, sadistic smile on his face. 

Bucky watched as he pressed a button on the desk, then got up from his chair and made his way over to Bucky. 

It was hard to think with the throbbing pain his arm was producing, but Bucky still managed to call him every curse word he’d had ever learned through gritted teeth. 

Zola merely smiled, though, as he approached him. Something in Zola’s eyes made Bucky’s skin crawl (more than usual). 

“We haff a few minutes before ze doctors return. I gave zem a break when you passed out. Can’t have you missing any of your _procedure_ ,” Zola said with barely concealed glee. 

When Bucky didn’t so much as twitch a muscle, Zola frowned. He thought for a moment before changing tactics. “It’s too bad about ze baby. We vere too late to save it… not zat zhere was much of it to begin with. She was only a couple months along, yes?” Zola asked, peering evilly down at Bucky through his spectacles. 

Bucky was frozen, however, searching Zola’s face for any sign of deceit. He found none, but he still refused to believe the little slimeball’s words. Sure, you didn’t use protection every single time but… but the chances were so small… There was no way… right?

Zola correctly interpreted Bucky’s silence and a cold smile worked its way onto his face. “Oh, you did not know, then? Well, perhaps it is better zis way,” Zola said as he turned away from Bucky to check the instruments on the nearby cart. “Though…” he paused, glancing over his shoulder at Bucky. “A child vith her brain and your abilities… now zat would have been a fearsome child, indeed. Perhaps we will unlock the secrets in your DNA through what is left of _it_ ,” Zola said darkly. 

_They would use our baby for an experiment? Like some lab-grown cells in a petri dish?_

“Fuck you, you goddamned Nazi cocksucker!” Bucky strained against his bindings, blind with rage. His only thought was to get to Zola. Rip him to shreds. Get what was left of his girl, get out of there, and never look back. True or not, Zola’s words hurt Bucky. He now imagined something he could never have: A family with you. The very thought was too pure and bright for the dingy depths of this horror chamber. 

Before Bucky could get free and beat Zola to a pulp, the door at the end of the room opened and the doctors streamed in. 

Zola smiled down at Bucky, who was practically frothing at the mouth. “Now… vhere vere ve?”

* * *

The passage of time was hard to keep track of. He could have been down there for days. Weeks. Months. Years. He had no way to tell. 

When he _was_ awake, he was in pain. Constant, terrible pain. He passed out a lot. He wondered idly if they shoved a feeding tube down his throat while he was unconscious. He hadn’t eaten anything since waking up the first time, but he wasn’t starving. Hungry, maybe, but not starving. It would at least explain why his throat felt like the Sahara (though that might have been all of the screaming, too).

Every time he woke, the first thing he did was look at your tank. Each time, you were farther along. Like him, they’d replaced your missing limbs with metal. How they were doing the procedures with the added obstacle of the water or plasma in the tank was beyond him. All he knew is that he went to sleep and when he woke up you looked less and less like yourself each time.

Your sleek, soft, deft digits had been replaced with hard metal. Twin gleaming constructs stuck out downward from your knees, sharp and cold. Like his arm, they weren’t complete yet. There were jagged pieces of metal and the occasional exposed wire. Your face was still mostly covered by a large mask, but this one was different from the first one they’d put on you.

The last thing he looked at was the health monitoring equipment. 

As of three-rounds-of passing-out-ago, a steady _beep beep beep_ came from the machine that monitored your heart rate. The sound bounced off the cold stone walls until it felt like it was coming from every direction, mocking Bucky for his failure. 

Hydra had succeeded. You were alive.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hydra progresses with their plans of creating the perfect weapon. You awake in an unfamiliar place and have to face the horrors of missing entire parts of yourself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pairing: Winter Soldier x Female!Reader
> 
> Warnings: Language (always), torture (physical and mental), death
> 
> A/N: There’s a definite time skip between the shift between your and Bucky’s perspective.

_Your sleek, soft, deft digits had been replaced with hard metal. Twin gleaming constructs stuck out downward from your knees, sharp and cold. Like his arm, they weren’t complete yet. There were jagged pieces of metal and the occasional exposed wire. Your face was still mostly covered by a large mask, but this one was different from the first one they’d put on you.  
_

_The last thing he looked at was the health monitoring equipment.  
_

_As of three-rounds-of passing-out-ago, a steady **beep beep beep** came from the machine that monitored your heart rate. The sound bounced off the cold stone walls until it felt like it was coming from every direction, mocking Bucky for his failure.   
_

_Hydra had succeeded. You were alive._

* * *

The next time Bucky awoke, his arm was finished and you weren’t in your tank. He gazed down at his hands and realized dully that he could move. They’d removed his restraints.

Their mistake.

“Ah, good. You are awake.”

Bucky’s drug-addled mind focused in on the source of the noise, gaze locking onto none other than Arnim Zola. “It was a success. You are to be the new Fist of Hydra,” he said, large, manic smile on his face.

But Bucky wouldn’t go down without a fight… and now he had a shiny new metal arm to use against his captors. 

Faster than they could even blink, Bucky reached out to the nearest scientist that was hovering near his head, monitoring his vitals, and wrapped the cold metal around his neck with a bone-crushing force. 

“Where the hell is she? Tell me where she is!” he bellowed, face twisted with rage.

The other doctors scrambled frantically as Bucky squeezed the life out of the man, but Zola remained eerily calm as he pulled out a syringe and plunged it into Bucky’s thigh. 

Almost immediately Bucky’s strength began to fade. The doctor he’d been strangling dropped from his hand to the floor in a heap, either dead or unconscious, Bucky didn’t know, though he hoped it was the former. 

As the darkness encroached on his vision and his body began to feel too heavy to move, he heard Zola speaking to his assistants.

“Take note of zat reaction. I think we vill haff to keep zem together. Zey are both too unstable by zemselves. Put him on ice until she is finished.” 

* * *

**Your POV  
**

You awoke slowly. At first, you were sure you were in the afterlife. There was no way you survived that fall… But the incessant beeping of machines didn’t seem to fit that hypothesis. Conclusion: Probably not the afterlife.

Then, your mind jumped to other ideas. 

Maybe it had all been a dream? But it had seemed so real. You don’t think you could fall that far and not wake up at some point. That’s what people did when they fell from great heights in dreams, right? Wake up before they went _splat_? But you were pretty sure you went _splat._ Conclusion: Probably not a dream. 

Maybe it wasn’t as far as you’d thought? Maybe Bucky had shielded you from the worst of the impact? But that would mean-

Your eyes shot open and the heart rate monitor’s beeping sped up as your brain kicked into overdrive, your body getting dragged along for the ride. Your eyes darted around the room as your chest heaved with panting breaths, taking in the sights around you as quickly as possible. 

Hospital room. White. Sterile. Scratchy blankets. No radio. One window, open. One door, closed. Medical equipment. Bedside table. Chair. Bell. Magazines. Newspapers. 

Everything was crystal clear in a way it had never been before, but you attributed it to the adrenaline coursing through your veins.

You scrambled upright, stopping when something tugged on your arm. You glanced down at it and nearly fainted. A needle. You moved to tug it out of your arm, but froze when you saw your hands. 

“Where are my fingers?” you whispered hoarsely, looking at your hands in horror. You held them up in front of you face and turned them slowly as though your eyes couldn’t believe what they were seeing until they saw it from every angle. 

You were missing four fingers. Your ring and middle finger on your right hand and your index and pinky finger on your left. In their place were shiny little metal discs affixed to the stumps that you didn’t dare touch. 

Horrified, you grasped at the tubes and wires attached to you, ripping them from your veins the moment you were able to get a grasp. 

Free from them, the heart rate monitor went blissfully silent. You threw your legs over the bed, eyes searching the room as you threw yourself off of the bed… 

…and fell to the ground. 

The fall dazed you for a moment and you dumbly looked down to your legs, confused as to why they hadn’t caught you. 

You stared at the space they were supposed to be, not comprehending at first. 

Then, it sunk in. 

“My legs… where are the rest of my legs?” you whimpered, pulling your thighs up so that you could see what was left of them. Like your fingers, they ended in smooth, shiny metal discs just below the joints (in this case, your knees). 

Slowly, you reached out to touch them, nearly recoiling as you caught sight of your hands again. Ever so lightly your fingers ghosted over the metal; you jumped when the metal of your fingers touched the metal of your legs and clicked together loudly at the contact. 

You started crying as it sunk in. 

Not dead. Not a dream. Real. 

Just then, a nurse opened the door, freezing when she didn’t see you on your bed. You could only see the bottom of her legs and her feet, as your bed was blocking the rest of her from view. 

“(Y/N)? Misses Barnes? Are you in here?” she asked, sounding panicked. 

You breathed out a sigh of relief you didn’t know you’d been holding in. British. You must have been taken back to London for medical treatment. 

“I’m here,” you croaked, hoping she could hear you from across the room. 

Immediately she moved, walking into the room until she could see you on the other side of the bed. “Oh! Oh dear… I’m sorry… I wish I had been here when you’d woken up…” she murmured as she crouched down. “Can we get some help in here?” she called out the door, presumably to the other nurses, before turning her attention back to you. “I know this is all a lot to take in, but-”

“Where’s Bucky?” you asked seriously, staring her down as your tears dried on your cheeks. You weren’t sure if you were ready to hear the answer, but not knowing was even worse.

“Do you mean Sergeant Barnes? Your husband?” she asked softly. 

You nodded tersely. 

She frowned and your heart plummeted. 

“Your friend- Captain America- just recently rescued him from Hydra. You’ve been out for a bit- we had to stabilize you- and during that time I’m afraid Hydra experimented on him. He’s alive,” she added quickly, seeing the torment on your face. 

At that, a great flood of relief washed over you, but was somewhat hampered by the frown still etched on her face. 

“I know you’ve just woken up, but… we need your help. The scientists at Hydra tried to… give him a metal arm… But they didn’t have time to finish it. Additionally, something in his physiology is making it hard for us to help stabilize him. When we asked Captain Rogers, he admitted you probably know best what Hydra did to Sergeant Barnes… and that you also had the best chance of fixing whatever they did to his arm. It seems like whatever they attached is permanent, so at this point we’re hoping you can make it as efficient as possible,” she explained, her wide eyes swimming in sorrow.

However, your mind was made up the second you heard he was alive. “Take me to him,” you said determinedly. 

The nurse gave you a smile and squeezed your hand. You were thankful that she didn’t recoil from the metal attached to your skin. 

A moment later another nurse appeared, this one pushing a wheelchair in front of her. “Your chariot awaits, Misses Barnes.”

* * *

Together, the two nurses had gotten you into the chair and wheeled you across the hospital. Most of the doors were closed so you didn’t see many patients, but nurses and doctors passed, giving you polite nods as you went. Eventually they took you to a special room in the ICU which was adjacent to a tech lab, presumably where you’d work on fixing Bucky’s arm. 

All you had eyes for, though, was your husband, lying prone on the hospital bed. He showed obvious signs of neglect and abuse and it made your heart twist just as surely as it set it aflame with renewed hatred for Hydra. 

If the magazines you’d spotted earlier were anything to go by, Steve and the rest of the guys were still giving Hydra hell.

Good.

Maybe when they’d taken out the final base they would come and visit the both of you.

But first, you had to help Bucky. 

You dismissed the nurse and wheeled yourself into the room, straight up to his bed. A man came in a moment later and introduced himself as the doctor that headed the team caring for your husband. He lowered the bed so that you were able to see him and your heart broke; everything you’d seen at the door was in vibrant detail this close up. 

“I’m afraid that whatever they did to him while he was a Hydra P.O.W. has made it very hard to treat him. We simply don’t know enough about the way his body works now. Captain Rogers said… you might have an idea?” he asked tentatively. 

You reached out and ran your fingers gently over his skin, guilt eating away at you. 

When you’d helped Zola all that time ago… you’d given him the piece of the puzzle he’d needed to create an enhanced human… _Bucky._ Your work had changed him on a fundamental physical level. 

“Yes… I think I can help,” you said, grimly determined. 

When he awoke you’d tell him everything. 

But for now, you only had one goal: save his life.

* * *

You worked around the clock, barely sleeping or eating as you worked to stabilize Bucky’s condition and finish the work Hydra had started on his arm. You mapped out countless blueprints and design ideas, each more intricate than the next. The base work Hydra had started left a lot of room for improvement and if you had your way, Bucky would have full range of motion with his left arm.

Maybe more. 

It was the least you could do. 

The doctors insisted he be kept under, as the work on his arm was too painful to do while he was awake, to which you’d agreed. There was the additional concern that he wasn’t stable enough to wake up yet, to which you’d also agreed. 

Day in, day out, you worked. Various doctors and nurses came in and out, some occasionally checking on you, most there for Bucky. Rarely, a scientist would come in and review your work on Bucky’s arm, asking questions about your designs and suggesting (often stupid, counterproductive) options. 

When you weren’t working, you were by Bucky’s bed, his hand in yours. If you were physically capable of hauling yourself on top of the bed without disturbing all of the tubes and wires attached to him, you would have. As it was, you took this time with him while you could, because when he woke up… you’d tell him everything, and you were sure he wouldn’t want you anymore. 

You’d turned him into this, after all. 

* * *

You were working late in the lab in the room next to Bucky’s when the door opened. You’d long since learned to ignore it, as lab techs, nurses, and doctors came and went as they pleased. In the back of your mind you registered the person go to up the table behind you which held the bulk of your blueprints and rifle through them. You had half a mind to tell them to stop touching your things, but they spoke first. 

“You haff done very well, Fräulein.”

Your blood ran cold. Your pencil stilled on the page and you hardly dared to breathe. It was late; you’d been through a lot… surely you were imagining things? There was no way-

“We could not crack Sergeant Barnes’ genetic code, but with your work, perhaps… we may be closer. Of course, zat does no even begin to include the work you haff done on his arm. Inspired, I would say. It is beyond anything we could haff done ourselves.”

You turned slowly, praying that it was just your imagination running rampant at late-o’-clock at night. 

Your gaze stopped on Doctor Arnim Zola, standing on just the other side of the desk a few feet away, staring over the rims of his glasses at you, a few of your blueprints in his hands. 

You blinked once, twice, three times. When he didn’t vanish you rubbed your eyes… then pinched yourself… but he was still there.

He watched you with those beady, cold eyes. “I am quite real, Fräulein. I apologize for all of zis…” he glanced around, one arm gesturing to the room, “…deception. But I know you would not help me any other way. Still, you once again surprise me with your brilliance. Your designs… zhey are astounding,” he said, as though this was a perfectly normal conversation to have. As though he hadn’t tortured you for a month. As though he wasn’t a murdering weasel. 

You’d been working for Hydra from the moment you’d woken up. 

The thought made you sick to your stomach and you choked back the bile threatening to make an appearance.

You tried to think of a way out of this. A way to destroy your blueprints, although they likely had copies. A way to kill Zola. A way to wake Bucky and escape with him.

But without your legs, you’d be too slow to pull anything off successfully.

“I think that with zese blueprints… yes, we can apply zem to you, as vell. Your husband vill become the Fist of Hydra… and you… you vill stomp our enemies into the dust, my lovely Blitzkrieg.”

You set your jaw and glared at him. “Don’t you touch me or my husband, you fucking prick.” 

Zola _tsked_. “Is zat any way to talk to the man who brought you back from the dead? Improved you? My dear, you should be thanking me,” he said as though he was talking to a petulant child, shaking his head. 

Dead? You were dead? And what did he mean, _“improved you”_? “What the fuck did you do to me, you bastard?” 

He made a dramatic show of slapping a hand to his forehead. “Ah, how could I have forgotten? I had zem make sure there were no mirrors, so of course you did not notice,” he said as he clicked his fingers. 

A couple of large, muscular men came into the room and you immediately tensed. Their mean, cold eyes fixated onto you and one walked over to Zola and handed him something. 

A hand mirror. 

A sense of dread gripped you as he took it from the man. He turned it to face you and you almost looked away, afraid of what you’d see. 

But you couldn’t.

There, staring back at you, was you… but not. She had your face, your hair, your skin… but her eyes. Her eyes weren’t yours. They had a nearly ethereal glow to them they’d never had before. Light blue- nearly white- light danced in them, and no matter how you turned your head, the light stayed in the same place: your irises. 

“What did you do?” you murmured, horrified, remaining fingers reaching up to feel the skin around your eyes. 

“I gave you better-zan-perfect vision, my dear. Your country uses ze 20/20 system, yes? It is 20/5 vision, or close to it.”

You fought the urge to rip your eyes from their sockets. “I’m going to fucking kill you,” you hissed, remaining fingers clenching into fists. You made to lunge at him, but were stopped by a fierce stinging sensation on your thigh. 

“I do not think so, Fräulein.”

You glanced down and were horrified to see a dart embedded in your leg. You yanked it out, but it was already too late. Your body began to slump in your wheelchair and the last thing you saw before you blacked out was Zola smiling at you. You also glimpsed Bucky through the observation window, already being rolled out the room.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You wake up in a cell with a Bucky than a few more parts than you last remember. You come clean and so does Bucky. Hydra sinks its claws into the both of you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pairing: Winter Soldier x Female!Reader
> 
> Warnings: Language (always), torture (mental and physical)
> 
> A/N: YEET

[Originally posted by wintersthighs](https://tmblr.co/ZpgCLr2BOtcbs)

_You fought the urge to rip your eyes from their sockets. “I’m going to fucking kill you,” you hissed, remaining fingers clenching into fists. You made to lunge at him, but were stopped by a fierce stinging sensation on your thigh.  
_

_“I do not think so, Fräulein.”  
_

_You glanced down and were horrified to see a dart embedded in your leg. You yanked it out, but it was already too late. Your body began to slump in your wheelchair and the last thing you saw before you blacked out was Zola smiling at you. You also glimpsed Bucky through the observation window, already being rolled out the room._

* * *

Fingers played through your hair, the repeated motion soothing and comforting. It nearly lulled you back to sleep. Even in your nearly unconscious state, you’d recognize that touch anywhere. 

“Buck…” you murmured contentedly, voice thick with sleep. 

Immediately, the fingers in your hair stilled and the body underneath yours tensed, coiled tightly as a spring. 

The odd reaction immediately set you on edge and suddenly you were wide awake. Your hands flew to Bucky’s chest as you rocketed upwards and sat on your haunches, eyes wide and frantic as your mind worked a hundred miles a second.

“Hey, hey, breathe. Babydoll, look at me,” Bucky pleaded as you did a frighteningly accurate impression of a caged, wounded animal. He reached up to cup your face between his hands, but the glint of metal in the dim light drew your attention. 

Your gaze snapped to Bucky’s metal arm, a thousand thoughts running through your head at once; a hundred feelings washing over you in an overwhelming tide.

What settled, though, was guilt, shame, and fear. 

“No!” you gasped, shoving him away from you. You had no right to touch him. You didn’t deserve his love, his comfort. 

At your rough shove, though, the oddest thing happened. 

The golden wiring embedded in your skin that you hadn’t noticed before sparked to life. Bucky was sent flying across the dingy cell as a massive electrical current passed from the golden wiring and into Bucky. 

He hit the grimy grey wall with a thud, his skull cracking horribly against the cement. He landed on the cold concrete floor, a hand immediately going to the back of his head where he clutched tenderly at it, a faint groan escaping his lips. 

You looked down at your hands, pure terror on your face. The fingers you’d lost had been replaced with sleek metal-plated digits that moved as though they were a part of you. They were cold against the skin of your other fingers, but you could sense the pressure being exerted on them. 

Bucky sat up slowly, and you glanced at him past your hands, reaching out in concern slowly before snatching your hand back in fear. His blue eyes found yours and your breath hitched as you took him in as though seeing him for the first time. 

“I-I’m sorry… I didn’t mean to- I didn’t know-” you stuttered, glancing down at your hands, then back up at him. Tears that you didn’t realized you were shedding fell onto the thin grey cotton pants you were wearing.

Bucky’s face twisted in anguish. “It’s alright, Doll. It’s alright. I know you didn’t mean to, just-” he made to move towards you, right hand outstretched and you scrambled backwards away from him, eyes widening in fear- not for yourself, but for him. 

However, the action made you realize that you’d used your legs.

Legs you weren’t supposed to have.

Ignoring Bucky’s protests, you pulled the stiff cotton fabric of your loose pants up your legs, nearly fainting at what you saw underneath. 

It was your tech. The same tech they’d used to make Bucky’s arm and your fingers. The shiny polished metal glinted menacingly up at you and you wondered briefly what other horrors they’d hidden away in your body without you knowing. 

Like your fingers, you could feel pressure, but not heat or texture. You were so entranced by the way the plates moved together as you shifted that you didn’t notice at first that Bucky was inching closer to you until he was less than a foot away. 

The moment you noticed you tried to back away further, your feet scrabbling for purchase on the smooth cement. You didn’t find much traction and your feet made an awful scratching noise that sent chills down your spine. Your efforts didn’t matter much, as your back hit the freezing wall before you’d made it more than a few inches. “No, stay back! Don’t touch me!” you whimpered, curling in on yourself, trying to make yourself as small and harmless as possible. You wrapped your arms around your legs and hugged your knees to your chest, then shoved your face into your knees, violently wishing you could do your entire life over while you sobbed.

You flinched when his right hand gently cupped the side of your face, his warm thumb caressing your brow lightly. Your sobs faltered, though tears still ran from your eyes and soaked the fabric of your shirt and pants. “Please look at me,” he murmured, sounding just as broken as you felt. 

“I can’t,” you choked out, squeezing your legs impossibly tighter to your chest. 

“Why not, (Y/N)? Please, talk to me,” he whispered softly.

_Too soft. Too kind. Too good.  
_

_Too good for me._

“It’s my fault,” you murmured forlornly, wishing you could just sink into the cold cement floor and die there. 

You could hear the puzzled frown in Bucky’s voice when he spoke. You could picture his expression as clear as day. “What do you mean, Doll? How could any of this be your fault?” he asked as he tucked your hair behind your ear. You wished he wouldn’t.

You took in a deep breath, forcing the words out before you could chicken out. “My work. My plans. My ideas.” You glanced up at him then quickly glanced away. You raised a hand and tapped on his metal arm with one of your metal fingers. For a half second he’d made to move it away from you, but managed to keep still. “My fault,” you whispered, quickly retreating back into yourself.

Bucky shook his head, although you didn’t see it. His right hand came to rest on your shoulder and his voice was heartbreakingly soft as he spoke. “S’not your fault if they stole your ideas, sweetheart.”

Your head flew up, startling Bucky, and tears streamed down your cheeks unimpeded. You shook your head almost violently. “No, Buck. You don’t get it. I gave them my ideas. Back in Italy in ‘43, and now here. You’re an enhanced human, like Steve. My knowledge allowed them to create something similar to the serum they used on Steve. It’s a miracle they seemed to have lost the formula, or we’d have faced an army of soldiers with your strength. Didn’t you ever wonder why you couldn’t get drunk since Italy, no matter how many pints you drank? Shots of whiskey? Bottles of wine? Didn’t it strike you as odd that even after all the physical abuse and malnutrition you suffered in Italy, you bounced back in a matter of days and were stronger than before? Stronger than you’ve ever been? It’s my fault, Bucky! I created those tanks Hydra used. Improved their weapons. I’m a monster, Bucky… and now I look the part,” you said, voice barely a whisper as you finished speaking. 

Bucky had been watching your outburst with wide, hurt eyes. You couldn’t stand the sight and moved to turn away, but his hand flew to your cheek and held you there and your gaze returned to his. 

“I knew that already, Doll,” he whispered, small, sad smile tugging at the corner of his lips. 

“What?” you breathed, heart skipping a beat. 

He cocked his head to the side a hair and ran his thumb over your cheekbone. “I’m not an idiot, Doll. Maybe not as smart as you, Stevie, or Howard, but no idiot. Between Zola’s conversations with you and the torture they put you through… I could tell what had happened, even without you saying anything,” he said, giving you the bravest, most understanding smile he could muster. 

“But-”

“No, Doll. I know you would never help Hydra unless they forced you to. You had no say in what happened to me and I can say with confidence you’re probably the only reason I survived Italy… and the fall,” he said earnestly, eyes glazing over at the memory. 

“Bucky…” you whispered, hardly daring to hope that he would forgive you, but the love shining in his eyes as his gaze snapped back to the present made not hoping _very_ difficult. 

“I love you, Misses Barnes. I don’t blame you for a single bit of this mess,” he said, the smile on his face chasing away any and all doubts you had.

With a choked sob you lunged forward, wrapping your arms around his neck and burying your head into his chest as you collapsed into his lap. 

“Shh, it’s alright, Sugar. I’ve got you,” he murmured into your hair. Hesitantly, he raised his metal arm and wrapped it around you gently, relaxing when you didn’t so much as flinch at the touch of the cold metal. 

“I love you, Bucky. I love you so much,” you whimpered, trying and failing to stem the tide of tears coming from your puffy, blood-shot eyes.

You heard the faint smile in his voice when he responded, “I love you, too, (Y/N).” 

The two of you stayed like that for a while; you wrapped safely in both of Bucky’s arms, your arms around his waist with your fingers clutching his cotton shirt. Eventually, the tears stopped, your tear ducts dry. 

“Hey, Baby?” he whispered, drawing you out of your wandering thoughts.

“Mm?” you asked, tilting your head up enough that you could look him in the eyes. 

“Zola… said something, and it’s been eating away at me ever since,” Bucky said, worrying his bottom lip nervously. Whatever he’d heard, it was obviously wearing heavily on his mind. 

“You know you shouldn’t listen to a thing that damn weasel says…” you said, brows furrowing angrily as your thoughts turned to the fat, balding bastard. 

He let out a heavy sigh and squeezed you gently, metal arm whirring softly as the plates shifted minutely. “I know, but… Doll, when was your last, uh…” he shifted nervously. 

“My last…?” you asked, raising an eyebrow at him in confusion. 

“Period,” he blurted out, going eerily still the second he asked. 

You were good and confused now, but thought about the question anyway. “My last period…? I… hmm…” you racked your brain, trying to pin it down. Between everything that had been happening during your campaign against Hydra, your period had been irregular at best and always in the back of your mind. After a moment, you realized you were drawing a complete blank. “I… I don’t remember,” you said, wide-eyed as you returned your attention to Bucky. His face contorted into something resembling agony and, although you already suspected what Zola said, you had to hear it from Bucky. “What did he say, Buck? Tell me,” you said with morbid conviction, holding onto his shirt as though it was a lifeline. 

Bucky crushed you to his chest, the pressure just shy of being painful and uncomfortable. “Please don’t make me say it, sweetheart. I can’t add to your pain. Not right now,” he murmured, voice cracking with emotion. 

You hugged him back fiercely, but your mind was made up. “Tell me, Bucky. I don’t know what the next day or even the next hours hold for us. I can’t live with that question mark over my head when whatever happens next happens.”

There was a pause and you could practically hear the wheels in his head turning as he considered your words. When he finally spoke, it was barely more than a whisper, “He said you were pregnant, Doll. A few months along, probably… and that the baby was lost when… when you died.”

You sat up slowly, sitting back onto your metal legs, as your mind flew a hundred different directions. “I… was pregnant?” you whispered, the word feeling odd- _wrong_ \- in your mouth. Having a baby was for _normal_ women back home. Not killers and war profiteers like yourself. 

“Yes,” Bucky breathed, watching you with trepidation. 

The single word confirmed your fears and you wanted to cry, but you had no tears left to give. 

“I was dead?” you whimpered, voice giving out to a whisper halfway through. 

Bucky looked wretched. “Yes… I watched you for god knows how long while strapped onto a table while they performed experiments on me. You were in a tank across the room, floating in some solution. You were dead for most of it, but every time I woke up… they’d done more work on your body. One day I woke up… and you had a heartbeat… and I didn’t know how to feel about it. I didn’t know what kind of state you’d come back in and no matter what, you’d come back to Hydra…” he paused, eyes unable to meet yours as he said the next part. “I thought seeing you, dead, was the hardest thing I’d ever been through, but the thought of you coming back, under Hydra… their experiments reviving you… changing you… I’d wished you’d stayed dead when I heard that heart monitor beeping out a steady heartbeat,” he said, sounding anguished. “I’m sorry, Doll. I wished you were _dead_. I’m so fucking sorry. I’m the worst-” 

Your thoughts stilled at his self-loathing words and you sat up, quickly capturing his lips with yours in a heartfelt, chaste kiss. “James Buchanan Barnes,” you whispered, just millimeters away from his lips, “don’t you dare apologize again.”

“But-” he began, looking harried and guilty. 

“No, Sergeant Barnes.” Your use of his last name like that made him freeze, looking down at you uncertainly. “I was dead. Wishing that Hydra not pervert me like this… never apologize for that, my love,” you whispered, running your fingers reverently along his jaw. Your metal fingers trailed over the stubble of his jaw, but you couldn’t even feel it. You hated it.

His eyes searched yours for a moment before he caved, leaning down to crash his lips desperately against yours. You glued yourself to him and he did the same, both of you losing yourselves in the comfort of each other’s embrace. 

Mid-kiss Bucky froze, his entire body coiled tightly with apprehension and you stilled, eyeing him with confusion. “Bucky-?”

But he was already standing, leaving you in a confused heap on the floor, placing himself between you and the solid metal door of your shared cell. 

“No matter what happens, I love you, Misses Barnes. You’re my other half and I’ll always find you. Always.”

He faced the door and if he had hackles, they’d be raised. As it was, his arms were outstretched, as though to shield you from what was on the other side. You stood like a newborn fawn and wobbled over to Bucky on your metal legs, placing a hand to his back as you tried to peek past him. “Bucky, what’s-”

Before you could get the question out the door swung open. You glimpsed at least a half dozen heavily armed guards. 

“On your knees!” the one in front yelled in heavily accented English, automatic rifle trained on Bucky’s furious form. When Bucky didn’t so much as budge he yelled it again. “On your knees, now!”

Once again, Bucky didn’t move an inch. “Bucky…” you whispered, eyeing the guns trained on the both of you warily. You didn’t think they’d waste the both of you after putting so much work into you, but for all you knew you were just guinea pigs, set to be euthanized the second it was deemed your usefulness was over. 

“No. I’m not letting them take you,” he snarled, not turning to look at you as he spoke. He was a feral animal, keeping his eyes on the threat. 

“They’ll kill you…” you whimpered, fist clutching a chunk of fabric in your hand worriedly. 

Finally, he glanced back at you, grey-blue eyes flashing in the dim light. 

The split second distraction was all they needed. They fired and you let out a terrified scream at the sound. Bucky tore his gaze away from you and looked down at his chest, staring down at it in shock, mouth open in a furious, surprised “O.” 

There, sticking out of his chest, were two sedation darts. You tried to keep him up but he simply weighed too much and you collapsed to the ground with him, shielding his head from the cement floor with your hands. “Baby… doll…” he whispered just before losing consciousness. You plucked the darts from his chest before turning your attention to the doorway, leaning over him protectively. You didn’t have great control over your legs yet, but damned if you didn’t-

The guns went off again and you felt a horrid stinging sensation as a dart embedded itself in your shoulder. You pulled it out, but knew it was too late. You slumped forward onto Bucky, using the last of your strength to twine your fingers together with his; whatever happened to the two of you, there’d be no doubt to anyone that you went through it together. 

* * *

“Fuck you.”

“Eще раз,” the voice said, sounding bored. _Again._

You wanted to scream and beg. Every time the machine turned on you felt yourself slip away more and more. Already you couldn’t remember your childhood. Every memory of the orphanage slipped through your fingers the second it flashed through your mind, never to be recalled again. New York was getting hazy. 

The machine lowered onto your face and there was the horrible sound of the machine ramping up the voltage needed to scramble your mind once again. 

Not ten feet away was Bucky, hooked up the exact same machine. He was screaming as it deep fried his mind and the sound, more than anything else, made you want to cry. 

Then the machine started and the man once again began reading the words. 

“молниеносный. Поезд. В поле зрения. Сорок один. Предсказать. путешествие. Боль. Три. защищать. империя.” _Lightning. Train. Insight. Forty-one. Predict. Voyage. Pain. Three. Defend. Empire._

The words replaced the memories. Each time the machine’s arm came up and the electricity stopped, you were less yourself. In the rare times you and Bucky weren’t under at the same time, you saw it in his eyes. He was forgetting, too. 

You dreaded the time when you’d come up and his eyes wouldn’t have the glimmer of recognition in them when he looked at you anymore.

Or, worse, when _you_ didn’t recognize _him_. 

The brainwashing didn’t stop. You and Bucky didn’t leave the chairs for god knew how long. 

One by one you forgot the guys. Then Howard. Then Peggy. Then Steve. 

You forgot Bucky, too. Or, at least, your memories with him. However, every time you resurfaced, you saw him across the room from you, in the same condition as you. Even though you didn’t know why anymore, your brain was sending you clear messages whenever you looked at him.

_Ally. Friend. Trustworthy. Partner._

You no longer had the memories that served as the basis for these feelings, but you felt them strongly nonetheless. 

“Cолдат?” _Soldier?_ the man next to your chair asked, eyeing you levelly over the red book with the black star. You tore your gaze from the man with the metal arm to look at him, eyes dull. 

“Готов к выполнению.” _Ready to comply._


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Training. Relentless Hydra training. When it’s over, you and the Soldier have your first mission: Jasmine Falls, Japan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pairing: Winter Soldier x Female!Reader
> 
> Warnings: Language (always), torture (mental and physical), blood, violence, death
> 
> A/N: **Unless otherwise stated, assume normal quotations is Russian from now on. Different languages (such and English, French, German) will be in “italics and quotes.”**  
> gifs not mine

[Originally posted by sxy-seabass](https://tmblr.co/Z86FNf2ErgZTa)

_The brainwashing didn’t stop. You and Bucky didn’t leave the chairs for god knew how long.  
_

_One by one you forgot the guys. Then Howard. Then Peggy. Then Steve.  
You forgot Bucky, too. Or, at least, your memories with him. However, every time you resurfaced, you saw him across the room from you, in the same condition as you. Even though you didn’t know why anymore, your brain was sending you clear messages whenever you looked at him._

_**Ally. Friend. Trustworthy. Partner.**   
_

_You no longer had the memories that served as the basis for these feelings, but you felt them strongly nonetheless.  
_

_“Cолдат?” **Soldier?** the man next to your chair asked, eyeing you levelly over the red book with the black star. You tore your gaze from the man with the metal arm to look at him, eyes dull.   
_

_“Готов к выполнению.” **Ready to comply.**_

* * *

Your routine was monotonous but inconsistent. Although you performed the same actions daily, they never kept the same schedule two days in a row. You woke when they told you to. You ate what they gave you, though the food was always tasteless. You went where they told you. You learned different languages, starting with Russian. You fought countless instructors, all specializing in a different form of combat. A team of scientists toyed with your implants and cybernetic limbs. By the second week they’d added power cells along your spine, which stored electricity. They said it would make your electric shocks hit harder and that you’d be able to use them longer. 

They were right. The brightly glowing implants delivered shocks strong enough to stop any person in their tracks with the slightest brush. A full charge packed enough power to topple an elephant (although it did drain the cells completely). 

They worked you until you collapsed from exhaustion, then dragged you back to your room and dropped you unceremoniously on the ground. 

The cold cement felt nice against your burning skin.

You didn’t know how long you laid there, drifting in and out of consciousness, but eventually the door opened. You didn’t have the strength to sit up and look at the doorway and turning your head only gave you a pristine view of your own shoulder, so you went back to lying there listlessly. 

A moment later the man with the metal arm was dropped next to you, hitting the ground without so much as a whimper or a gasp even though he broke the fall with his face.

He happened to be dropped on the side you were facing, so you studied his profile absently, seeing as you had nothing better to do. 

The man with the metal arm always lasted longer in training than you did. Whenever they made you fight each other, you had to win quickly or his superior stamina and strength would win out. 

You hated when they made you fight him. He was hurt by them, too; the only other being that you knew that couldn’t pull your strings… and they made him beat you to a pulp every few days (although about half the time you nearly electrocuted him to death). 

You didn’t know why they allowed you to stay together. It didn’t make any sense.

But you liked the man’s company. 

And he seemed to like yours, too.

He turned his head to look at you, grey-blue eyes cloudy with exhaustion, though they cleared a bit when his gaze fell to you. His shaggy black hair was getting just long enough to begin to hide his eyes.

Wordlessly, he slowly reached out for you with his left arm and reeled you into his chest. You didn’t fight him, not that you could have in your state anyway. 

The two of you had fallen into this unspoken habit. When they were done with you for the time being and threw you back in your cell, he’d pull you to his chest and you’d lie there together until they came to collect one or both of you. 

At first, this action had caused Hydra to put both of you back in _the chairs_ , but somehow you always eventually found yourself in his arms, your own arm slung over his waist, regardless of how many times they wiped your mind. Eventually they gave up when neither of you exhibited any other odd behaviors. 

They’d tried separating you once but both of you had gone on rampages that destroyed half the facility and killed around a half dozen people. Since then, they were sure to keep you in the same cell.

Neither of you said anything during this time. Mostly, you both slept, set at a sort of ease by each other’s presence. 

He always woke up first when they came for you. He had better hearing; you had better eyes. 

You were awake the moment he tensed. Your body felt more rested than usual. It immediately made you suspicious. They never let you rest too long. 

A second later the heavy metal door swung inwards and your and the man’s handler stood there, his large frame blocking most of the doorway. “Get up. You have a mission.” 

You and the man stared at him blankly. He hadn’t specified which of you, so neither of you moved yet.

His face contorted in anger. “Both of you,” he spat.

Now you both stirred. You disentangled yourselves from one another and stood at attention shoulder-to-shoulder in your cell. The handler seemed appeased for the moment. “You’re both to report to the tech lab. As soon as they’re finished with you, you’re to report back here. Details on your mission will be waiting for you. You will have an hour to study the files and prepare before you’ll be dispatched.”

“Understood,” you and the man said in unison. 

The handler turned and marched away, satisfied.

Wordlessly, the two of you made your way to the technical lab, the only sound the metallic _clank clank clank_ of your bare feet on the hard ground. 

* * *

Apparently, you’d been sent for a paint job. You watched despondently as the lab assistants painted a red star on the man’s metal arm, right on his shoulder. 

They barely paused before they turned to you, smelly paints in hand. Fifteen minutes later you had a sickle on your left foot and a hammer on your right. The shiny red paint glared up at you, a mockery of what it stood for; peace for little folks… on a living weapon wielded by the most powerful people in the country, possibly the world. 

Someone had a taste for irony.

“For the motherland,” the assistants said, admiring their handiwork. 

“For the motherland,” you and the man agreed in a monotone. 

* * *

Exactly an hour later, you and the man were on a small plane headed southeast. Neither you, the man, nor the pilot said a word the entire trip. You and the man sat on the floor of the plane shoulder to shoulder, dressed completely in black leather. Only your feet and his hand poked out; the only spots of light in the darkness. Like you, he was wearing a jet black mask that hid the bottom half of his face. The cabin of the plane was so dark that if anyone was in there with you, all they’d be able to see would be two pairs of bright eyes staring at them in the gloom. 

* * *

**Jasmine Falls, Japan - 1946**

The mission was straightforward. Meet the contact. Eliminate the target. Leave the rest to the contact. You didn’t understand why they needed you _and_ the man for this. One of you should have sufficed. 

Japan was still reeling from the atomic bombing of Hiroshima and Nagasaki. It was still ravaged by war. The able-bodied men were gone, leaving only the young, the sick, the old, and the women. 

Under the shadow of night, it wasn’t difficult to avoid detection. 

The small shack appeared seemingly out of nowhere, hidden by trees and brush. It was exactly where the information said your contact would be, though, so you and the man entered, pausing only long enough to check for traps. 

_“Right on time. It is nice to see the Russians keep a tight leash on their dogs.”_

English. 

You and the man’s attention snapped to the source of the voice. Neither of you had sensed him, which automatically meant he was someone dangerous. Both of you came to a halt, giving yourselves plenty of space between the new man and yourselves. 

_“You are the contact, then?_ ” your partner asked, voice hoarse and raspy from disuse. 

_“Of course I am, you fucking moron! God, I swear people get stupider by the year,”_ he muttered bitterly. Roman, this time.

_“What are your orders?”_ you rasped, matching the language. 

His feral gaze snapped to you and he shifted forward enough that he was in the light. His white hair shone even in the darkness and he had savage looking canine teeth that jutted out between his lips. If you didn’t know any better, you’d say this was a beast playing at being a man. 

_“Oh, so one of you has a brain after all,”_ the man mocked with a smirk, this time in French. 

_“What are your orders?”_ your partner asked in French. 

The man scoffed, smile only growing before he switched to Russian. “Fat load of fun you two are. Fine, fine. You’re to eliminate the target. This woman,” he said, pulling out a creased, weather-beaten photo of a Japanese woman in traditional clothing. “I suggest you make it out of there right quick after. Her husband’s someone you don’t want to mess with,” he warned. 

The two of you nodded, each taking a look at the picture, committing it to memory before you handed it back to the feral man. 

“The house is less than a kilometer away. Just on the other side of the big hill. It’s tucked away in a little copse. She has a fire going and there aren’t any other houses in the area. You can’t miss it. Oh, and keep it simple,” he said, eyeing the glinting metal of your limbs disdainfully. 

Both you and your partner nodded in understanding. 

“Go.”

You didn’t have to be told twice. With nearly robotic precision the two of you turned and walked back out of the cabin. The two of you didn’t need to talk strategy. Hydra had drilled you enough that you knew the plan without having to say a single word. You would infiltrate the house and he would keep a lookout. A single woman wouldn’t pose enough of a threat to warrant the both of you going into the house, but you needed to be warned if backup came to try and save her. 

The walk to the house was quiet except for the sound of the Soldier preparing his guns. When you were within a hundred feat you paused only long enough to share a terse nod with him, and then you were off, carried faster on your metal legs than any human could run naturally. 

* * *

The woman lay dead in a growing pool of her own blood. You dropped her katana to the ground where it clattered noisily on the wooden floor. Her hands and kimono were painted a grisly red from where she tried to staunch the flow of blood from her jugular. 

With your mission finished you turned to leave, but something caught your eye. Even across the room, you could see the picture clear as day thanks to your enhanced vision, but you found yourself walking towards it anyway. 

There, on a small hand-crafted table, was a photo set into a slender wooden frame. It was your target and a man, smiling happily together on a warm summer’s day. They looked happy. 

What drew your attention, though, was the man in the photo. 

He was short, not much taller than the woman. Clearly not Japanese. His black hair was overgrown, giving him a nearly animalistic appearance, even with the broad grin on his face. His dark eyes shone with happiness.

The longer your stared, the more your head started to hurt. Almost without thinking you slammed the fragile frame onto the desk, shattering the glass in the front and cracking the wood. You were breathing more heavily than you should have been as you tried to calm your turbulent, chaotic mind. It took you a moment to spot the writing on the back of the photo peeking out between the cracks in the wood. 

Wordlessly, you ripped the frame from the photo, eyes glued to the words written in heavy black ink. 

> _Istu,_  
>  When you said you wanted to take a photo, I wasn’t sure, but I’m glad we did. I like knowin’ that I’m here lookin out for ya when I’m away, even if it’s only as a black-and-white photo. I’ll prove to Murasame I’m worthy of being your husband.  
> I love you.  
> -Logan

You read the name at the bottom at least twenty times before you turned the photo back over to stare at the man, chest heaving as your mind tried to rip itself apart. 

A whimper escaped your lips and the photo fluttered to the ground as your hands moved to clutch at the side of your head. Surely your head was splitting open. It had to be. The pain was unbearable. “No. No no no no-”

_Thunk, thunk thunk._

Your gaze snapped up to the roof and you swayed a bit as your mind continued to swirl dangerously. That was the signal that someone was coming. Not many, just one. 

You had a guess as to who. 

You wobbled your way to the back door as quickly as you could manage, stumbling once or twice and knocking things over. 

You hadn’t made it more than ten shaky steps out the door before the Soldier was next to you, eyeing you worriedly. 

“Are you hurt?” he asked quietly. 

“No. We need to go,” you said dismissively. 

“What-”

A howl of anguished rage cut across the Soldier’s question. It was the sound of a man dying from the inside out. From this distance, even you could hear the choked sobs coming from the man.

_Logan._

The name made your head hurt so you expelled it from your mind. One glance at the Soldier was all you needed to communicate how important it was you left promptly. 

You felt stable enough to walk on your own and ignored his offered hand. You’d just made it to the edge of the trees when you heard it. 

_“Barnes, you cocksucker! (Y/N), you heinous bitch! I’m going to fucking kill you! I can goddamned smell you! I know you killed her!”_

It was the same voice as before, but this time it was a snarl that chilled you straight to your bones. It was rage incarnate. 

“Run,” you whispered breathlessly, not bothering to glance over your shoulder. 

Both of you took off at a dead sprint. You kept pace with the Soldier, not wanting to take off ahead of him in case the man caught up. You risked a glance over your shoulder and saw nothing, but the overwhelming feeling of being _hunted_ urged you to keep moving. 

You and the Soldier were fast. Faster than any normal human. The only way he could catch up would be with a vehicle, but the trees were too thick for that… so it came as a shock when the man appeared in front of you, cutting off your escape. 

Even more shocking were the claws sticking out of his hands, bloody and bone white in the dim light. 

_“I knew it was you two. You smell different, but not different enough that I wouldn’t recognize ya,”_ he growled. _“You killed her! You killed Itsu! My wife! You killed my damned wife!”_ he screamed, veins in his neck popping out dangerously. 

You and the Soldier stood completely still, waiting to see what he’d do. The Soldier clenched his fist slowly and the sound of the metal plates clicking gently together drew his attention. 

_“What the fuck happened to you?”_ he asked, although he didn’t relax even a single hair. When neither you nor the Soldier answered him he shook his head. _“Never mind, I don’t care. You killed her and now I’m going to kill you.”_

He lunged forward quickly, but you and the Soldier were ready. You scattered, knowing he could only go after one of you at a time. 

It seemed he chose the Soldier. One glance at you sprinting away and he went for the seemingly easier target.

Just as planned.

You heard the grunts of their fight; it seemed the feral man didn’t have trouble catching up to the Soldier in the slightest. You watched from a short distance away as they fought, ramping up power in your hands as you went. The odd trickling sensation that you felt whenever you drained your power cells trailed down your spine, causing you to shiver. You looked for an opening but they were fighting so brutally and quickly that you risked hitting The Soldier on accident. 

But it seemed you waited too long.

With an almighty roar Logan’s fist flew to the Soldier’s stomach… and skewered him on his bone spikes. 

_“That was for my wife, you damned mongrel,”_ you heard him hiss. 

The Soldier coughed up blood, droplets of it flying through the holes in his mask. You expected him to drop, but he surprised both you and Logan by grabbing onto the man’s hand and holding him in place. He turned his head to look at you expectantly, but you were already dashing towards the both of them, fists sparking with electricity. 

_“What the fu-”_

The moment your fist connected with his skin he was sent flying, claws ripping out of the Soldier with a wet squelch. You didn’t pause long enough to check on the now-smoking man and rushed to the Soldier’s side. 

Logan’s claws had ripped clean through the Soldier and he was bleeding in the stomach and the back from the puncture wounds. 

It didn’t look good. 

“We have to go. Now. Or you’ll bleed out here,” you said, slinging his arm over your shoulder. He didn’t say anything as he let you drag him along but you quickly grew worried by his pace. It was tortuous to begin with but he was already slowing down and you’d barely made it even a mile. You paused and turned to him; he nearly fell over and you quickly rushed to steady him.

“Get on my back.” 

“What?” he hissed, wincing in pain.

“You’re too slow. We’re not going to make it back to the extraction team before you bleed out on the forest floor. I’m fast. I can carry you. Get on my back.”

He studied you for a moment and when he spoke it was just barely loud enough to be heard past his mask. “Why do you care? I beat you within an inch of your life every other day. You should want me dead.”

A frown creased your forehead. He was right, but for some reason the idea of him dying was unthinkable. Your entire being rejected the notion wholeheartedly.

“I don’t know,” you whispered truthfully, eyes wide. 

The Soldier studied you for a moment before he nodded. “Fine.”

* * *

You made it back in time to save the Soldier. The handlers were so upset with the botched mission that they starved you for a day while they worked on saving the other Asset’s life. 

For four days you stayed alone in your tiny cell, barely sleeping, hardly eating. On the fourth day they threw the Soldier back into your dingy cell, still unconscious but thankfully not bleeding to death anymore. You laid him down on the tiny cot in the corner and sat next to him. He awoke only long enough to drink water, shove some stale bread in his mouth, or relieve himself in toilet in the corner. He was so exhausted he looked like a ghost, large bags under his eyes making his face look gaunt and skull-like. Then, on the six day since your return, you overheard a terse conversation between your handler and one of the lead scientists. 

“I don’t understand-”

“They’re scrapping the project. They’re to be put into cryostasis until a later date. We may not have need of them right now, but they were too valuable to just toss away.”

“But they succeeded! Romulus got exactly what he wanted!”

“Yes, but they failed. The freak should have never gotten the better of them. In fact, he should have never even seen them in the first place. They’re going under and that’s final. Leader’s orders.”

You looked down at the Soldier where he laid beside you and were startled to find him awake, bright blue eyes shifting from the door to you slowly. You hadn’t realized you were absently playing with his hair until you saw your hand tangled in the chocolate locks and snatched it away. The Soldier frowned, but you ignored it.

“You heard everything?”

He nodded an affirmative. 

“Once more unto the breach?” you murmured, the line popping into your head from out of nowhere. 

Instead of responding he simply pulled you down on top of him and squeezed you gently against his chest. You froze at first but when you realized you’d spend the next who-knew-how-many years frozen, you decided to take all the non-abusive physical contact you could. 

You didn’t know how long the two of you laid like that. You drifted in and out of sleep, although each time you awoke he was awake, staring down quietly at you. 

Eventually, they came to collect you.

They always came. 

They marched you and the Soldier to the cryofreeze pods. You entered yours without a hassle. There wasn’t much point to making a big stink about the whole thing. They’d just beat you. You took each needle they jabbed into you without so much as a sharp intake of breath. 

You only regretted not putting up a fight for about four seconds: when you looked out across the room and saw the Soldier in the other pod, staring straight at you. His hand reached out to you but was stopped by the metal wall and thick glass. You raised your fist to bang on the door but it was too late. Liquid nitrogen flooded the tiny pods at the same time and the last thing you saw before nothingness engulfed you was the Soldier, a faint dusting of ice already coating his handsome face. 

 


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The 50s and 60s pass by in a blur. A very murderous blur. Along the way, though, you and the Soldier get closer. He’s a distraction and you know you shouldn’t let yourself develop any sort of feelings for him, but that proves impossible as the years and missions together go by.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pairing: Winter Soldier x Female!Reader
> 
> Warnings: Language (always), torture (mental and physical), blood, violence, death, nudity, sexual themes, dub-con(?)*
> 
> A/N: *Dub-con is on there because they’re not technically themselves? They’re brainwashed? They both consent but… yeah. I figured it was better to be safe than sorry on this one, guys.  
> **There were some formatting issues so this chapter has been re-uploaded.

[Originally posted by breakmybedbarnes](https://tmblr.co/Zz-Hbd2NoXedB)

_They marched you and the Soldier to the cryofreeze pods. You entered yours without a hassle. There wasn’t much point to making a big stink about the whole thing. They’d just beat you. You took each needle they jabbed into you without so much as a sharp intake of breath.  
_

_You only regretted not putting up a fight for about four seconds: when you looked out across the room and saw the Soldier in the other pod, staring straight at you. His hand reached out to you but was stopped by the metal wall and thick glass. You raised your fist to bang on the door but it was too late. Liquid nitrogen flooded the tiny pods at the same time and the last thing you saw before nothingness engulfed you was the Soldier, a faint dusting of ice already coating his handsome face.  
_

* * *

No matter what Hydra had decided earlier, they made use of you and the Soldier. You were too valuable to leave in storage. 

Most missions lasted a few days at most, and the majority of that time was spent traveling. You needn’t ever worry about studying your target, learning their habits and schedules; everything was done by the time they woke you and the Asset up from cryofreeze. You were handed a folder with all the pertinent information, then dispatched with clear orders. You and the Soldier completed them. Then you went back to base, wherever it happened to be. Shortly after your arrival they put you back in the chairs, and your minds were wiped. Then back into cryo. 

This cycle repeated itself more times than even you knew. 

You killed at least dozens of people in the name of the motherland and Hydra. Their faces would come back to you randomly, their features contorted in fear and terror in your mind’s eye. 

It annoyed you. You wished the wiping would clear them away so you could focus on your mission. 

“Your mind is wandering.”

Your gaze snapped to the Soldier, who was walking beside you down the busy French street. His hair was slicked back and he was wearing a finely tailored dark navy suit. Black leather gloves hid his hands and shiny black oxfords flashed out from under the hem of his pants as he glided gracefully down the sidewalk. A blue-and-white polka dot tie was tired securely around his neck. You knew that underneath all of that fabric he was outfitted with enough firepower to level the block. 

Your outfit was almost infuriatingly simple, with little to no room to hide weapons. The fashion of the time and place you were in- 1956, France- meant tiny waists and simple and tight-fitting dresses. The eggshell suit-dress top was nearly suffocating in its tight stiffness, but the billowing black skirt, at least, meant you were able to hide twin pistols using thigh holsters. Luckily, long gloves were fashionable for this time period, meaning that you didn’t draw any weird looks by wearing gloves that extended past the cuff of your jacket’s sleeves. Long, thick tights meant that no one was able to see your metal legs. The black and white heels they’d put you in, though, made you want to shoot someone. The glasses they gave you hid the faint glow of your eyes.

“I’m focused,” you murmured stubbornly, giving a polite smile to a couple of passersby. The men nearly slowed down, looking as though they wanted to talk to you, but one look from the Soldier and they scurried hurriedly away, eager to be anywhere but there. 

Now that they were out of earshot, the Soldier talked in a normal volume. “No, you’re not,” he said, side-eyeing you with a knowing look that made you want to punch him. 

You glared at him and began to pick up your pace, your heels clicking dangerously on the sidewalk. “Leave me alone, Soldier. Focus on the mission,” you snarled under your breath, knowing he could hear it.

He didn’t leave you alone, though, and you should almost have expected him to grab you by the arm and drag you into an alley as you passed it. You were so startled that not even a yelp of surprise left your lips by the sudden action. 

You yanked your arm from his grasp, only succeeding because he hadn’t grabbed you with his left hand. You immediately tensed up, glaring up at him obstinately. 

It was a mistake. Immediately your head started hurting, your vision starting to swim as you took in those steel blue eyes and that chocolate hair. You looked away immediately, gaze trained at a spot on the uneven cobblestone street as you fought to calm your mind. His shoes appeared in your field of vision and you nearly looked up again, head twitching before you gazed downward with renewed resolve. 

You could feel his gaze on you. It was so heavy it felt like a physical thing, weighing you down. You’d had enough, though. You were wasting time; you had a mission to complete. 

You turned on your heel and began walking out of the alleyway, but you only made it a half step before his hand once against closed around your upper arm. You were about to bark out a nasty rebuke when he pushed you gently but forcefully against the nearby brick wall. He stepped in front of you and placed his hands on either side of your shoulders. He was so close you were sure you couldn’t wiggle out of his grasp before he’d just catch you again, even with your speed. 

This close, you had very little choice but to look up at him. His frosty blue eyes were searching your face, brow furrowed as he regarded you. “Why won’t you look at me?” he murmured, eyes widening slightly as though he was as shocked by his words as you were. 

“What?” you spat, taken completely off guard by his line of questioning.

His jaw set stubbornly. “We’ve been on this mission for a week already. You haven’t looked at me for more than ten seconds since the third day. Why?” he asked, voice low but just unsteady enough to show how upset he was under that cold demeanor. 

You swore in your head. Of course he noticed you’d been avoiding him. He wasn’t an idiot and was almost scarily observant, always picking up the tells and ticks of your target before you did.

You winced at the question, moving to look away from those piercing eyes, but his right hand came up and cupped your chin, stopping the movement. You tried to look away but he held you firmly in place. With nowhere else to look but into those stunning blue eyes, you felt something inside you cave. 

“Because it hurts,” you murmured, surprising yourself by how anguished you sounded. A frown creased his brow and you both froze as some pedestrians passed by the alley you were in, laughing loudly and babbling happily in French. The sound was grating on your ears and made your skin crawl. 

His voice drew you back to the present. “I don’t understand.” His brow was creased in confusion as he stared down at you. 

You wanted to be anywhere else. This close, he was making your head hurt. It felt like it was trying to fry itself. Those baby blue eyes were setting you on edge and you felt twitchy, like a caged animal. You tried to shove him forcefully away from you, but he didn’t budge. Your stare turned hard.

“We have a mission. You’re wasting our time. Move.”

He simply shook his head. “Explain.”

You opened your mouth to argue, but he cut you off before you could get a word in edgewise. 

“Just explain, and I’ll let you go. _Please_.” He said the last word so softly you almost didn’t hear it, even this close. It was so full of emotion that your glare softened to a confused stare as you regarded the Soldier. 

Eventually, you relented. It took a moment to collect your thoughts but he seemed to realize you weren’t going to try to run, so his hand dropped back down to his side, although the metal one stayed planted firmly on the wall near your head. 

When you finally spoke, the words felt foreign and sticky in your mouth, like they didn’t belong there… like you had no place saying them. 

“When I look at you… it hurts. My head. My chest. My heart beats faster and I can’t think straight. My stomach feels like it’s twisting itself into knots. I want to stop looking at you- make the pain stop- but I can’t tear my eyes from you. So I don’t look. I never start so I don’t have to stop. It only started a few days out of the pod. I don’t know what’s happening,” you whispered, wide-eyed, as you stared up at him. What you were telling him could land you in _the chair_ for even longer than normal. He was a distraction for you when you were like this. They’d blend your brain so you could be more efficient in your work of bettering the world. You had important work to do- you knew that- but you hated the chair. Hated how hard it made it to think. Telling him these things… you should have been afraid, but for some reason you weren’t. 

As though he could read your thoughts, his hand came back up and gently brushed a piece of your hair that had fallen forward behind your ear. His thumb ghosted over your cheek and you nearly shuddered at the simple contact. “I won’t tell them,” he murmured.

Your breathing picked up as you studied his face, looking for any signs of deception. He was as trained in you in manipulating people, but you couldn’t spot any tell that said he was playing you. Still, you didn’t understand. You were distracted. Inefficient. It could jeopardize the mission. Your work was too important to be hindered. By all accounts, he should turn you in to your handlers.

“Why?” The question was simple but your heart raced as it spun with his possible answers. Each conclusion seemed less likely than the next and your anxiety only heightened by the second. 

His expression softened so slightly that you would have missed it if you hadn’t spent to much time around him and had also been trained to study people’s behavior. Slowly- slow enough for you to pull away- he leaned forward and rested his forehead against yours. 

The contact soothed your frayed nerves immediately and you nearly sunk forward into his arms. True, the two of you had laid together in your cell before. You remembered that sometimes. Occasionally you remembered sleeping next to each other in his sniper’s nest or in a rundown motel or on the forest floor in thin sleeping bags… but you didn’t remember anything like this. 

This close, you could see the flecks of green and darker blue in his eyes. His metal hand fell to your hip and the fingers of his right hand carded lightly through your hair. 

“Because I feel it, too,” he breathed. 

* * *

**United States of America - Dallas, Texas - November 21, 1963**

[Originally posted by lovelynemesis](https://tmblr.co/ZVOuzi2P8Zkv9)

“Skirts this short should be illegal.”

The Soldier paused his survey of possible sniper’s perches to glance back at you. If you weren’t mistaken, he nearly cracked a smile. Either way, it was clear when he spoke that he was amused. 

“You look good. And you’re blending in.” 

You glared at him, though you stood a little straighter and unconsciously puffed your chest out slightly with pride at his comment. “The slightest breeze will ensure every person within a ten block radius gets a peek at my underwear thanks to this miniskirt,” you said angrily, practically hissing the word _“miniskirt.”_

At that, the Soldier’s face darkened. He glanced at the rapidly retreating sun with a scowl. “We can get you other clothes.” 

You tilted your slightly as you regarded him. “Does the thought of other people seeing my underwear bother you?”

He ignored your question and pulled out a cigarette, lighting it quickly as he walked towards you. 

You fell into step beside him, fighting back a smirk that tried to work its way onto your face. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

The only response you got was a puff of smoke that was quickly carried away by the fall breeze. 

* * *

You were tinkering away on your legs when he returned. Apparently your comment had annoyed him more than you’d thought because he wordlessly dropped a longer- but still fashionable- skirt into your lap. 

You held it up and knew immediately you’d be more comfortable in it. Even with the long boots that completely covered the metal of your legs and a good portion of your thighs, you’d felt much too exposed wearing that tiny scrap of fabric that they called a skirt. 

You set it back down on the table and weren’t too surprised to see the Soldier had vacated the room. As quiet as he was, though, you had a knack of being able to find him without too much trouble. 

Sure enough, you located him a moment later in the bedroom.

What you hadn’t been expecting, though, was him to be in the state of undress that he was. 

You could hear the water running in the background, but you were too enthralled by the sight in front of you to pay it any mind. 

He was facing away from you in naught but his briefs and those left little to the imagination. He was all thick muscle and exposed, enticing skin. His hair was so long now that the tips touched his shoulders. The lights weren’t on in the room, but you didn’t need them to see; the moonlight cast an unearthly glow onto him, making him look like a creature out of a fairy tale. His metal arm glinted in the night, scattering moonlight every direction. 

“Are you going to stand there and watch or are you going to join me?” he asked quietly, finally glancing over his shoulder at you, light blue eyes bright in the darkness.

You froze guiltily at being caught, trapped in your indecision. Your mind was screaming a hundred different things at you at once, but almost without realizing it you were walking forward towards him. He turned slowly as you approached and you were graced with the wonderful view of his muscular chest and chiseled jaw. The very sight quieted some of the thoughts that were rioting in your head at your actions. 

Before you knew it you were directly in front of him, gaze trapped by those beautiful eyes. Slowly, your hand came up and you felt his breath hitch as you lightly traced the lines of hard muscle on his chest and abs. His hands came up and cupped your face, drawing your attention from the soft, scarred skin of his stomach. He leaned down slowly and gave you plenty of time to pull away, but you stood on your toes, surprising the both of you by closing the gap between you. 

At first, your lips met gently. The simple contact created a universe of feeling inside of you, one you hadn’t felt in a long time, maybe ever. You half expected memories to come rushing back, but the only thing you felt was the wild beating of your own heart and the way his soft lips felt against yours. Your lips danced together tentatively for a moment before you both broke apart with a gasp, staring at one another wide-eyed with shock. Then, something within the both of you changed. 

As always, the two of you worked together as a perfect team. Your lips crushed together as his hands worked on the buttons of your shirt and you unhooked and unzipped the back of your skirt. It fell in a pool around your feet and was joined a moment later by the button-up shirt. 

His lips moved away from yours and he trailed kisses down your jaw and neck, making you let out small noises of surprise and lust when he nipped at all the right places before soothing them with a lick or a kiss. He seemed to know all your most sensitive spots and played at them as though he knew them by muscle memory. 

With a twitch of his fingers your bra came undone and it, too, fell to the ground. He leaned back to regard you for a moment and you shifted nervously under his scrutiny. Your body was covered with scars and gold metal wiring was embedded in your skin between your fingertips and the power cells on your back. You weren’t whole or beautiful. You were a weapon.

But he was looking at you like you put the stars in the sky. 

“Мой Мир.“ _My World_. “You’re beautiful.” _  
_

Your eyes widened at him, surprised. He smiled at that. Honest to god smiled. It was a tiny, crooked thing that could almost be a grimace if it weren’t for the light dancing in his eyes. He closed the distance between you again and ran his hands gently down your sides. You shivered at the opposite temperatures of his hands. The cool metal soothed your burning skin and his flesh hand made it feel electric with anticipation. He hooked a finger in either side of your underwear and you watched with baited breath as he slowly tugged them down over your thighs and down your legs. You let out a shaky gasp as he trailed kisses up your legs. You could barely feel the feather-light pressure on the metal parts, but it only served to ramp up the anticipation as he neared your skin. He didn’t even flinch at the angry scarred tissue where the metal fused to flesh, giving it just as much attention as he did the smooth skin above it. He kissed all the way back up, mouth ignoring where you needed it most, although he did stop long enough to lavish your breasts with attention. Eventually, though, his mouth found yours again and your lips crashed together in a frenzied kiss. Your hands trailed down his muscled torso until they found the hem of his briefs and you broke the kiss, watching his eyes as you slowly worked them down over his almost unfairly thick thighs and down the rest of his legs. Your fingertips drew mindless patterns into his skin as you stood back up slowly, placing the occasional kiss to his various scars as you went.

“моя звезда.” _My Star._

You watched as a hundred emotions flickered through his face in a moment. You barely had time to brace yourself before his lips were back on yours, his arms going around your waist. You snaked your arms around his neck and nearly moaned into the kiss when you felt him pressed up against your stomach, hard as a rock. He tapped the back of your thigh and gave it a gentle tug upwards. It was enough of a hint. You jumped and wrapped your legs around his waist. He let out a hiss of pleasure as the cold metal met his skin and you smirked into the kiss. Without even looking he walked the both of you into the now-steaming bathroom. 

* * *

The two of you slept together a lot, that was true. You’d never slept naked together before, though. You laid as you normally did, with you pulled into his chest… but the skin-on-skin contact made the entire thing more visceral and real and you wanted the moment to last forever. 

It seemed he, too, was hesitant to sleep. For hours the two of you laid there, each absently touching the other in some sensual way, whether it be running your fingers through the other’s hair, tracing nonsensical patterns into their skin, or placing kisses to the other’s faces and chests. 

It was only once the two of you were too exhausted to move in the wee hours of the morning that you finally did sleep. 

* * *

**United States of America - Dallas, Texas - November 22, 1963**

[Originally posted by breakmybedbarnes](https://tmblr.co/Zz-Hbd2OCv6aU)

The two of you moved silently through the streets mere hours after you’d fallen asleep. You weren’t trying to blend in for reconnaissance anymore. You were both in your combat gear and thanks to early hour, it was still dark enough that people didn’t see you as you passed between buildings. You were ghosts. 

You arrived at the sniper’s perch and the Soldier set up his rifle. The two of you had customized it and you’d be surprised if there was a more accurate sniper rifle in the entire world. Combined with the Soldier’s skills, he could take down a target from almost two miles away. 

The two of you sat there for hours, hidden from wandering eyes, waiting. The catwalk of a water tower he’d decided to perch on was on top of a mostly abandoned building, a little over a mile away from where the target would be. He had a clear shot but only for a moment. If he missed it, he wouldn’t get another one.

But the Soldier never missed. 

Bored, you eyed the Soldier as he laid there, sniper rifle in-hand, making the final adjustments to his sights and angles. You’d calculated everything for him in an instant. It was one of the gifts you’d developed in your time working with him. You sat down on top of his butt with an annoyed huff. 

“Soldier,” he growled quietly, not bothering to glance over his shoulder at you, though he was clearly irked by your actions.

“Who’s ‘Soldier’? Not me,” you said dismissively, voice nearly monotone but somehow still playful. You didn’t see it, but he rolled his eyes before he looked over his shoulder at you. 

“Do you have to sit there?” he asked, sounding not quite as annoyed as he should have.

You didn’t meet his gaze, instead keeping an eye out for anyone who might see the two of you. No witnesses would be allowed to see you and live. “It’s well cushioned,” was the only explanation you gave. 

The Soldier studied you for a moment longer before turning back to his gun, a long sigh leaving his lips as he moved. “Fine.”

You bit back a smirk as you watched your surroundings, hawk-like eyes searching out any living soul unfortunate enough to lay eyes on the two of you. 

* * *

By the time the Soldier fired his shots, you’d killed four people. Most of them had barely registered the two of you before they got a bullet between the eyes, grey matter painting the wall or ground behind them. Some of the shots had been a little trickier to make and you were glad you’d sprung for bringing your own rifle instead of your usual twin pistols. 

The second his shots were fired the two of you were moving. He caught the shell casings midair with his metal hand and was already in the process of tearing apart his rifle before the shots hit their mark. With your enhanced vision, you saw the aftermath clearly. They hit the target with brutal accuracy, one going through his throat, the other through his head. You watched as the woman next to him- his wife- screamed and tried to cover him, but it was too late. The second shot had ripped through his skull. It shot nearly took out the man in front of him, too. 

Not a minute later the two of you were making your way to the extraction point just a few miles away. The city was in an uproar and radios and TVs in storefronts blasted the news. 

_“There was a shooting at the President’s motorcade in Dallas, Texas. Witnesses say he’s been shot in the head. He’s being taken to Parkland Memorial Hospital. We have no word yet if the President has survived or not.”_

All the stations were playing something similar and by the time the two of you were on the plane back to base, the reports had changed. 

_“President John F. Kennedy has been declared dead.”_

 


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You and the Soldier are dispatched to retrieve Peter and Mila Hitzig, former Nazi scientists and sole bearers of the coveted Alchemy Formula; a chemical reaction that can turn things into gold. Eager to gain an advantage in the Cold War, your Soviet masters send you out to kidnap them from Hydra custody.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pairing: Winter Soldier x Female!Reader
> 
> Warnings: Language (always), torture (mental and physical), blood, violence, death
> 
> A/N: “моя звезда” - My Star  
> “Мой Мир.“ - My World
> 
> For years, the Winter Soldier served as a Soviet spysassin. Zola/Hydra may have been the one to create him in the movies, but he was loyal to the Soviets for most of his… “career.”

[Originally posted by medieval-woman](https://tmblr.co/Zj58of2T1TOui)

_Not a minute later the two of you were making your way to the extraction point just a few miles away. The city was in an uproar and radios and TVs in storefronts blasted the news.  
_

_**“There was a shooting at the President’s motorcade in Dallas, Texas. Witnesses say he’s been shot in the head. He’s being taken to Parkland Memorial Hospital. We have no word yet if the President has survived or not.”** _

_All the stations were playing something similar and by the time the two of you were on the plane back to base, the reports had changed.  
_

_**“President John F. Kennedy has been declared dead.”** _

* * *

**Mountains of Germany - 1966 - Outside Castle Hydra**

“You’re sure these will work?” The Soldier asked, eyeing the glider pack on his back warily. Snow fell in flat flakes around you and you watched as a particularly large flake got caught in his dark brown hair. 

You fought the urge to roll your eyes. “My answer hasn’t changed the last ten times you asked me, моя звезда.” 

He let out a huff but relaxed just like you knew he would at the term of endearment. He stilled next to you and eyed the castle below you warily. He may not have your eyesight, but it was still better than most humans’. The red goggles probably didn’t help much, though. Better to see everything in red than be blinded by snow, you supposed.

“They’ve been in there too long. We should go in after our targets,” he said, obviously annoyed. 

“Did you bring a tuxedo?” you asked, raising an eyebrow at him.

You could see his eyes narrow into a glare behind his goggles.

“A slinky cocktail dress for me?” you pressed, biting back a smirk.

He turned his glower from you to the castle below. 

“Then it might be a bad idea to walk into a meeting full of Hydra’s top brass, hmm?” you asked, giving him a smug side-eye.

“Fine, I get it. I shouldn’t have suggested it in the first place. I regret it now.”

You opened your mouth to tease him some more, but he stiffened and you froze, words dying on your lips. 

“I hear something. Fighting. Gunshots. East side of the castle,” he said, eyes searching the castle grounds as he spoke. 

You spotted what he was talking about immediately. “There. That roof. Targets acquired. Let’s go,” you said briskly, leaping from the sheer mountain cliff face without a second thought. You heard the Soldier swear once quietly before he, too, jumped off the cliff behind you. You had that horrid swooping sensation in your stomach for only a moment before you hit the button in the center of your chest. Two metal wings sprouted from the pack on your back and suddenly you were gliding along, deadly, fast, and quiet.

The Soldier was heavier so he eventually sped past you, getting to your targets a moment before you did. First, the two of you dispatched their entourage. A swift sucker punch from the Soldier to the jaw of one of the men and a kick from you to the head of the other and they were incapacitated. The Soldier grabbed the male scientist while you snatched the woman. You both jumped off of the roof, leaving the American agents that had been escorting them a confused mess in your wake. 

You had no trouble seeing through the snow storm and hoped the Soldier was having similar ease… because the American agents had given chase with gliding suits of their own. 

Without the extra cargo weighing them down and creating wind resistance, they caught up quickly. You banked left dangerously hard to avoid one of the agents, nearly losing your grip on the woman in the process. 

_“Oh my god!”_ she screeched. For once, you were thankful you didn’t have enhanced hearing. The howling wind was enough without adding the woman’s screaming to it. 

_“Shut up,”_ you barked, glaring down at her. 

It was a mistake. Your moment’s distraction meant you didn’t see the other American agent until it was too late. 

He threw himself into your wings and the fragile metal buckled and cracked. You had no choice but to drop the scientist as you turned to face this new opponent, grappling with him midair. You heard the woman screaming bloody murder below you and you swore internally. Killing the scientists was a last resort only and you weren’t eager to fail in acquiring the highly coveted Alchemy Formula. 

In the back of your mind you knew you were falling, and falling far and fast at that. Your suit was broken and unless something changed posthaste, you were going to crash into the wall of the canyon or into the base of the canyon itself. 

The idea wasn’t appealing.

It seemed the man you were fighting midair was having similar thoughts. With an almighty shove he managed to push himself away from you. You reached out, scrambling for purchase on any piece of clothing or material you could grab, but his suit slipped between your fingers. 

Having only one working wing sent you into a spiral. The world blurred together until it was only a grey mass. 

“Not again,” you whimpered, consciousness fading as you fell in a tailspin.

_Not again? Why did I say-_

You crashed into the solid rock wall of the canyon and everything went black. 

* * *

**The Winter Soldier’s POV**

He watched in detached horror as you hurtled into the cliff face and immediately began falling down into the icy ravine hundreds of feet below, limp as a rag doll.

His glider had been disabled by the second agent and the scientist had slipped from his grasp while he fought him. When he glimpsed you falling, though, he pushed away from the man and, broken glider be damned, began his controlled free-fall towards you and the man attacking you. 

The agent that he’d been fighting let him fall and pursued the plummeting scientists, though the Soldier knew saving them from falling to their deaths would be a close thing. 

He hurtled towards the second agent, trying not to think about the horrid impact that he was about to feel. His blood boiled with fury when he saw the agent pull a gun and aim it at your unconscious form. 

_Like hell I’ll let you hurt her,_ he thought venomously. _  
_

At the last second he changed his position so that he was falling feet first and, with what was likely to be a bone-crushing force, slammed into the American agent. He let out a horrid, pained yell and began falling, but the Soldier’s attention immediately shifted to you. 

He cursed out loud as he reached out for you, missing you by inches as you hurtled downward. The wall of the canyon was so close that he thought more than once that the two of you would get skewered on a sharp rock or hit a flatter surface and crush every bone in your body. When his right hand finally closed around your wrist he let out a short cry of exaltation. 

However, it was too early to celebrate.

He gritted his teeth and thrust his left hand outwards, metal fingers digging into the solid rock face, slowing your descents. A scream ripped itself from his throat as the cybernetic tech fused to his shoulder screeched and groaned with the effort he was placing on it. The pain from the neural feedback implants was nearly unbearable and The Soldier fought to keep consciousness. His fingers left jagged tracks in the rock but eventually he came to a stop, panting and wincing at the agony ripping through his shoulder. 

He took a moment to collect himself before he turned his attention to you. You dangled from his hand above the crevasse, dead to the world. A large lump on the back of your head made it clear as to why. The small puff of steam coming from your mask told him you were still alive, at least.

“Мой Мир… Мой Мир, please wake up,” he said loudly over the screaming wind, biting back a grimace as yet another surge of agony lanced through his arm. When you didn’t so much as twitch he let out a long, resigned sigh. 

He reeled you upwards, a pained gasp escaping his lips as he jostled his left arm. With superhuman grace and dexterity, he threw you securely over his shoulder. A second later he was digging through his pocket for the metal wire he kept in his belt. Wordlessly, he tied it around one of your legs then secured the wire around his waist. Now, if you happened to slip off his shoulder, you at least wouldn’t go hurtling down into the canyon. 

He just hoped the thin wire wouldn’t slice him in a half.

Now, with both hands free, he began the grueling and painful climb upwards with you slung over his shoulder. 

* * *

A half hour later he clawed his way over the edge of the cliff, panting and angry. His right hand was reduced to a bleeding mass, cut to shreds by the cold, sharp rocks. His left shoulder protested greatly when he threw his elbow down over the lip of the rocks and used it to push himself over. You fell forward onto the icy snow and with a heaving sigh he snapped the metal wire with his left hand. He allowed himself a moment to catch his breath, body shaking, on his hands and knees. He glanced up at his surroundings through the dark hair that had fallen into his eyes, taking everything in in an instant. 

Forest. Uninhabited. Harsh. Likely path of escape for the American agents. Possible shelter. 

He stumbled to his feet, legs weak from the climb. He searched the area for any visible tracks, wishing fervently you were awake; you’d have a much better shot at seeing something in the damned snow than he did. 

He was in luck, though. The snow was disturbed about a hundred yards away. He took a deep breath, reached down, picked you up, then threw you over his shoulder in a fireman carry. He took note of how you’d begun to shiver and worry settled itself deep in his bones. The only nearby shelter was Castle Hydra and he sure as hell wasn’t taking you back there… not that he could have jumped across the ravine and climbed all the way back up to the castle anyway. He glanced back at it, hundreds of feet up the cliff, scowl on his face. 

He set his jaw and made his way towards the tracks. As he neared them he was able to determine there were three sets.

One of the four people falling hadn’t made it. Judging from the nearby imprints in the snow, the woman and two of the men had made it safely to the ground. He toed the pile of snow, revealing blood-stained flakes. 

_Mostly_ safe. Alive, at least.

Which meant that at least one of the scientists was alive… and their mission wasn’t over. 

Wordlessly, he began following their trail.

* * *

**Your POV - One Day Later  
**

[Originally posted by leave-me-colourless](https://tmblr.co/ZkaOEu2SOISoa)

You were freezing. You weren’t a stranger to the feeling, but that didn’t make it any more pleasant. 

The moment your brain registered the cold you began shivering. It was only once the world went still that you realized you’d been moving in the first place. It took a second for you to register the body under and around you. You wanted to open your eyes, but you were too tired and just couldn’t quite manage it yet. 

You took a deep breath and, past the stinging sensation from the freezing cold air, you registered a scent you knew all too well. 

“Bucky…” you hissed, the single word taking most of your energy. 

He stopped breathing, going eerily still. 

“Мой Мир?” he asked, voice cold, quiet, and confused. It was The Soldier’s voice.

Your eyes opened suddenly, your mind a harried jumble of thoughts and memories. 

All around you, there was only blinding white snow and dark pine trees. Your mind caught up in a blur.

_Germany. Hydra. Americans. Targets Alchemy Black and Alchemy Blue. Escaped. Fell. Pain. Mission. The Soldier._

Your dazed gaze snapped to The Soldier, who was staring at you with an almost unreadable look in his eyes, red goggles and black mask obscuring most of his features. 

“моя звезда,” you rasped, throat dry. 

To your surprise, he didn’t relax at the name. 

You knew something was wrong, but your head was throbbing too violently for any clear train of thought. “Please put me down,” you murmured, a little embarrassed that you’d had to be carried by him. 

For a moment you almost thought he didn’t hear your or simply ignored your request because he didn’t move an inch, his eyes searching your face warily. 

But then he set you down gently. You wobbled for a moment and his hands shot out to steady you. You didn’t miss how he winced at the movement. 

“You’re hurt.” It wasn’t a question. 

He didn’t try to deny it. “Not as badly as you,” he muttered, gaze still trained on you unwaveringly. 

“Your arm?” you asked, nodding to the cybernetic limb. 

After a moment, he nodded an affirmative. 

“Let me see,” you said, taking a half step closer so you could roll his cutoff sleeve up enough to see where the metal was fused to flesh. Before you could do anything, though, the comm in your ear crackled to life. You were surprised it survived the whole ordeal you’d just been through. 

“Soldier, this is command. Report. We’ve detected unusual brainwaves. Have you sustained any damage?” the voice on the other end said. You didn’t recognize the speaker, but the cold clinical way they spoke was familiar. 

“I’m fine. A hit to the head triggered a hallucination, but it’s passed. I can continue,” you said, rubbing the spot on the back of your head gingerly. 

“What was the hallucination of?” the voice on the other end asked. 

You frowned, straining to remember. “I called The Soldier a different name… I can’t remember, though… something with a B?” you murmured, brain refusing to cooperate. The Soldier watched you, bright blue eyes calculating. 

There was a pause on the other end of the line. “That is most unsettling. Return immediately. The Soldier can finish the mission,” the voice said, cold and commanding. 

You frowned. “Negative. I’m fine now. The Alchemy Formula is too important. I’m completing the mission.”

Another pause, this one longer than the first. They were obviously deliberating something on the other end.

“Acknowledged. Return immediately after the targets are secured.”

“Order received.”

“Command out.”

You turned your attention back to the Soldier, who’d been watching you the entire time. You couldn’t even begin to guess at the look in his eyes. 

You averted your eyes, unable to take the scrutiny. “Let’s see your arm, then,” you murmured. He didn’t put up a fight and let you work.

* * *

**Two Days Later**

[Originally posted by xmas-wonderland](https://tmblr.co/Z0I6yu2Eld6SB)

Two days of living in that god-forsaken forest, gathering, hunting, and tracking your way through the day. You and the Soldier hardly slept. It was wearing on you.

You finally tracked your targets to a small German town. As far as you could tell, Hydra was crawling all over it. You and the Soldier stuck to the shadows as you searched for your targets, not eager to draw attention to yourselves. 

You were both jumping from rooftop to rooftop, quiet as a whisper, when you glimpsed them ducking around a building and into a small corner store. 

You stuck out an arm and the Soldier stopped on a dime, instantly following your line of sight. You were about to tell him where you saw them go, but the male scientist chose to peek surreptitiously out of the huge glass window, giving away his position clear as day. The Soldier didn’t miss this, of course, and one look between you was enough to come up with a plan. You hopped off of the roof, dropping two stories to the ground with a dull thud, your metal legs easily absorbing the shock. The huge shop windows meant that you were able to see your targets clear as day. 

You pulled twin pistols from your thigh holsters and leveled them with practiced ease, taking aim at the agent and bystanders inside the shop. 

The agent spotted you a split second before you started firing, his warning coming too late to save the shopkeeper and other patrons who you riddled with bullets before they could even turn to look at you. It had been enough to save himself, though. He dove to the floor just in time to avoid your spray of bullets and shards of glass. 

You _tsked_ in annoyance and grabbed a tear gas grenade from your belt. You pilled the pin and lobbed it through the destroyed window as you continued your relentless march forward. 

As planned, the American agent and the two scientists ran out the back… directly into the Soldier’s waiting arms.

You heard police sirens screaming towards the shop and a feral grin graced your features behind the black mask. Hydra or real police, it didn’t matter. They wouldn’t get in the way of your mission.

* * *

**The Winter Soldier’s POV**

He heard the gunshots and the screams which were cut off abruptly as his partner peppered the place with bullets. He didn’t have to see inside to know she’d eliminated the witnesses with pinpoint precision. If he was lucky that stupid American agent would have been distracted and been taken out by a bullet. 

When the targets and the American burst through the door, however, he bit back a sigh. That would have been too easy. 

They all spotted him at the same time, all of their eyes practically bugging out of their heads. “Oh-”

The agent didn’t have time to finish his curse. The Soldier opened fire and they were sent diving for cover. The bullets grazed the American agent who didn’t even flinch as he closed the gap between them. 

Coming at him head-on? People were usually too terrified by him to even try something so bold. 

The Soldier didn’t have time to put his gun down or block the punch that the agent aimed squarely at his jaw. His head whipped to the side with the impact and he moved to try and shoot the man with the pistol in his off-hand, but the man grabbed his wrist, preventing him from using it effectively. 

_“Show me, you son of a bitch!”_ he growled. 

The Soldier was so busy recovering from the last punch and trying to keep control of his weapons that he barely blocked the tiny dart that the man fired from a small wrist-mounted crossbow in time. The dart buried itself between the metal plates in his arm. 

_“Show me what has them all so scared!”_ he roared, glaring at the Soldier in challenge. 

But the Soldier had had enough of this man’s hubris. He kicked him away, his booted foot knocking the wind from the man’s lung in a _whoosh_. He flew backwards and the Soldier raised his gun to fire.

The man let out a short huff of laughter. _“Thanks, man. Put me at a minimum safe distance,”_ he said with a smirk.

_Beep. Beep. Beeeeeee-_

The bolt that had buried itself into his arm exploded a half second later, sending him flying backwards. His head hit the brick wall with a sickening _crack_ and his vision swam dangerously. He fell to the ground in a heap, his arm sparking dangerously with uncontained electricity.

He groaned as he lifted his head. He almost definitely had a concussion. His gun was still in his hand, however, and he managed to spot the quickly retreating group of the scientists and the agent. Shakily, he raised his arm to shoot, taking careful aim so he wouldn’t shoot the scientists. 

_“Go! Move!”_ he heard the agent yell. 

**_“Great shot, Bucky.”_ **

[Originally posted by multi-fandom-imagines13](https://tmblr.co/ZSb7Wg2D1Ypod)

He was still in Germany, but he felt like he was somewhere else, too. He was watching the scientists and agents retreat… but he was also on a battlefield. Out of the corner of his eye he could make out a man in a red white and blue outfit. He trusted this man. Loved him. He was a brother in all but blood. 

**_“Of course it was a great shot. Buck’s the best sniper in the whole Army,”_** said a female voice from his other side. He liked her voice. It made him happy. It also reminded him of his partner. Maybe that was why he liked it.

_**“There’s more to it than being a good shot,”**_ the man said with just a hint of chastisement. He could hear the woman shift beside him and could see her roll her eyes in his mind’s eye. Pretty eyes, just like his partner’s, but without the light from the cybernetic implants he was so accustomed to. _**“In the field, you never shoot a man in the back,”**_ the man said, unheeded by the woman’s dismissive attitude. _**“When a soldier’s running, that’s surrender- he’s lost the will to fight. If you want to come out of this war with your soul intact-”** _ He could see the man’s face now, bright blue eyes and golden hair sticking out from underneath a blue helmet with a white “A” painted on it. _**“-you never take a life you don’t have to.”**_

On his other side, the woman laughed resignedly. _**“I hate it when you’re right, Stevie.”**_

The Soldier groaned as his vision flickered between the hallucinations in his head and the reality before him. By the time his head cleared enough to see straight, his targets were out of sight. With a groan, he let his gun fall, his face buried in the dirty brown slush that had gathered on the side street.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You and the Soldier continue to pursue for Nazi scientists Mila and Peter Hitzig. However, both you and The Soldier are having trouble concentrating on the mission as you’re continually plagued with memories that belong to other people.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pairing: Winter Soldier x Female!Reader
> 
> Warnings: Language (always), torture (mental and physical), blood, violence, death
> 
> A/N: Trains…. why did it have to be trains?
> 
> Also, yes. Shocky Dan is a canon character in the Marvelverse. Comic books are wild, man.

[Originally posted by orbo-cinemagraphs-world](https://tmblr.co/ZN7Vzf2IHpanF)

_**“There’s more to it than being a good shot,”** the man said with just a hint of chastisement. He could hear the woman shift beside him and could see her roll her eyes in his mind’s eye. Pretty eyes, just like his partner’s, but without the light from the cybernetic implants he was so accustomed to. **“In the field, you never shoot a man in the back,”** the man said, unheeded by the woman’s dismissive attitude. **“When a soldier’s running, that’s surrender- he’s lost the will to fight. If you want to come out of this war with your soul intact-”** He could see the man’s face now, bright blue eyes and golden hair sticking out from underneath a blue helmet with a white “A” painted on it. **“-you never take a life you don’t have to.”**  
_

_On his other side, the woman laughed resignedly. **“I hate it when you’re right, Stevie.”**  
_

_The Soldier groaned as his vision flickered between the hallucinations in his head and the reality before him. By the time his head cleared enough to see straight, his targets were out of sight. With a groan, he let his gun fall, his face buried in the dirty brown slush that had gathered on the side street.  
_

* * *

**Your POV**

You stood with your hands on your knees, panting hard. There was unbridled carnage around you; destroyed police cars, Hydra agents, nosy civilians, actual police. Not a single thing moved except for the electric cables from the utility pole that swayed gently in the breeze, occasionally emitting sparks. 

You’d been so preoccupied with your own fight you hadn’t been able to keep track of The Soldier’s; he was out of sight so you’d had to rely on your hearing, but there was so much noise it was hopeless. Satisfied you’d killed any and all witnesses and enemies, you made your ways towards the back alley where you knew the Soldier had set his trap. 

You expected him to have dispatched the American agent and secured the scientists, so the sight of him face-down on the ground, cybernetic arm sparking dangerously, made you freeze in your tracks. 

Exhaustion forgotten, you raced forward to him, dropping to your knees with a metallic screech as you slid the last few inches. 

“Soldier! моя звезда! Wake up!” you hissed frantically. When he didn’t stir you rolled him onto his back with a great heave and searched him for any injuries. You didn’t spot any new cuts or gunshot wounds, so you focused your attention on his arm. The circuitry was fried and could be overloading his neural feedback processors, causing any number of cognitive issues. You glanced up and down the street, glaring when you heard the sound of even more police cars headed your way. 

Knowing you had little to no time to evacuate both yourself and the Soldier, you picked him up and did your best to get him into a secure position on your back. Once you were satisfied, you clicked your heels together twice. You shot upwards a few inches and felt the odd tingling sensation in your feet that meant your wheels and mini-jets were out. 

Getting used to controlling the jets with your mind had been a little tricky at first, but you smiled with triumph as they powered on. You wove in and out of houses with ease on your razor-sharp steel wheels, at one point jumping on top of a dumpster to make it onto the rooftops. Without people (witnesses) and cars to slow you down, you managed to make it out of the city in mere minutes, a mere blurred shadow to civilians. 

* * *

Within fifteen minutes you’d made it to the next town over, where you knew the Soviets had a safe house. After bypassing the security using your override codes you carried the Soldier to the bare-bones bedroom, dropping his heavy body on the bed. You nearly collapsed next to him, but his arm required immediate attention now that you weren’t in danger of being discovered. 

You ghosted your metal fingertips over your right leg and a moment later the plating on your shin moved aside to reveal your tools. You didn’t know how you had the knowledge to fix your and the Soldier’s cybernetic limbs and digits, but you didn’t question it. You assumed they’d taught you before but the memory wipes made you forget the act of being trained itself. 

You set to work on repairing the damage to his arm as quickly as possible, silently hoping the damage hadn’t effected his mind or abilities in any way. There was a rather large welt on the back of his head, so it was possible he was just out cold. 

* * *

You were in the process of making the final repairs to his arm when he finally stirred. You paused your work and slammed the fine electric tools back into your leg and hopped from the bed, knowing what came next. 

Not a half second after you were out of the way he sat up violently, fierce snarl on his lips as his metal hand slashed through the air, searching for any and all threats.

“Soldier, it’s me. You’re alright,” you said quietly, hoping your cool tone would help to calm him down. He was always confused after waking up, and this time was no different. 

His gaze snapped to you and you could tell he wasn’t seeing you. The look in his eyes made your blood run cold. 

But then the feral glint cleared and he stopped breathing so heavily and you allowed yourself to relax a hair. 

His stare fell to his left hand. He opened and closed his fist a few times, testing it out. To your relief, it seemed to be working just fine. Your repairs must have been successful. 

His gaze returned to you and it was back to the usual expression you were used to see on him. “Mission status?” 

You walked back over to the bed and sat down next to him, trying to ignore how exhausted you felt. “Alchemy Black and Alchemy Blue have escaped with the American agent. They’re likely trying to escape east towards Berlin by train. Hydra runs the smaller cities in the area, but Berlin is large enough that both the Soviet and American governments have people stationed right under Hydra’s nose. They’d be able to rendezvous with an extraction team there.”

The Soldier nodded when you were finished, finding no flaw in your logic. Then, he paused, air heavy with tension. “It’s my fault. I should have apprehended them,” he said, not meeting your eyes. 

You tilted your head as you regarded him, brows furrowed in confusion. When he didn’t elaborate further or give any explanation for his odd behavior, you merely shrugged. “I’m not upset, моя звезда. But we should go. They already have enough of a head start. Are my repairs to your arm adequate?” you asked him as you stood, pausing to put your tools back into your leg properly. 

He nodded his appreciation and, in a rare show of intimacy, placed a light kiss to your forehead. “Do you have a plan?” he murmured as he peered down at you. 

“Please, just who do you think I am? Of course I have a plan.”

* * *

“I liked my plan better,” you said bitterly from your spot on top of the train station’s terminal. 

“You wanted to storm a military base, steal a plane, fly it over the train, then either have us drop on top of the train or land the plane on the roof of the cars,” he said, giving you a flat stare. He was sitting right next to you, warding off the worst of the winter chill with his body heat. Whether intentionally or not, he’d placed himself between you and the worst of the wind. 

“But we still stole a plane,” you said, raising an eyebrow at him. 

“From a civilian’s private hangar at the airport.”

You _tsked_. “True. We were still shot down by Hydra, though.”

“Does it count as being shot down if we jumped out before the missile hit the plane?”

You thought about it for a minute before shrugging lackadaisically.

He let out an undignified noise; something between a scoff and a snort and you glared at him. You watched as he leaned back on the metal roof, crossing his fingers behind his head, and stared up at the sky. 

“When’s their train due in?” he asked as he crossed his legs, looking as relaxed as he did when you were alone in safe houses together. He never let his guard down outside of those four walls. It set off alarm bells in your head, but for some reason you paid them no mind. 

“Fifteen minutes,” you said, frowning at his apparent unwillingness to help keep a lookout for the train. 

Before you could let out more than a squawk of protest, his arms shot forward and dragged you down next to him, reeling you into his chest with ease. 

“Soldier!” you said chastisingly, trying to wiggle out of his grasp. 

His grip was like being trapped in a steel girder and your struggling was ultimately useless. “We’re not going to miss hearing a train roll into the station. I’ll hear it a few miles away. Relax,” he said quietly, his voice tickling your ear. The sensation startled you into stillness. 

You paused, considering for a moment. “You’ll listen for the train?” you asked shrewdly, eyeing him out of the corner of your eye. 

He hummed his assent and you relented, sinking into his embrace. You both resented and appreciated the lack of clouds that night; it was even colder than it would have been with cloud cover, but it allowed you to see the starry night sky; the light pollution in the small town you were in was almost nonexistent and it felt like you could see the entirety of the cosmos. 

The two of you laid together in companionable silence for a while, but he eventually spoke up. 

“What do they look like to you?” he murmured. You turned your head towards him and were surprised to see he was staring at you, not at the stunning sky. 

Your eyes scoured his face for any clue as to his odd behavior, but found nothing. “My eyes aren’’t _that_ much better than yours, you know. I don’t have telescopic vision,” you said wryly. 

He gave a half-hearted shrug and, if you weren’t mistaken, looked a little disappointed as he returned his gaze to the sky. 

You were about to open your mouth to say something (you didn’t even know what) when he stiffened, not even drawing a breath. After a second he scowled. 

“It’s time?” you asked, already knowing the answer.

He turned his head enough that he was able to stare down at you with those fathomless blue eyes and nodded his head so subtly you almost missed it, deep frown etched onto his face. 

You stood, but not before brushing a light kiss to the knuckles of his right hand. He watched you, hawk-like, following your movements with his intense gaze. You stuck your hand out to him and he took it after a moment and you pulled, but he was so graceful and muscular that he didn’t need your assistance. 

You turned to look at the horizon and there, half-hidden by the trees and less than a mile away, was the train. Squinting, you realized all at once the two of you were going to have a problem. 

“They’re not slowing down.”

He glanced between you and the train which he could likely only track by the headlight on the engine car, brow furrowed. “Are you sure?”

You fought the urge to roll your eyes. “Yes, I’m sure.” 

“Then I suggest we don’t miss the jump,” he said dryly.

“ _Bugs on a windshield…”_ you muttered, staring at the train as it neared. You were so focused on the moving target that you didn’t see the way his gaze snapped to you, or the all-encompassing confusion churning in those icy blue depths. You didn’t even realize you’d spoken. “You go first,” you said, not bothering to turn and look at him. 

He shook his head to clear the lingering shadows and nodded. “Understood.” It made more sense for him to go first. You were faster which meant you needed less of a head start. The ground shook and the Soldier nearly winced as the train’s horn roared, its bellow likely heard for miles around. The ground was beginning to subtly shake as it neared. You were right, it wasn’t slowing. 

“Start running now,” you said, glaring at the giant metal machine as it barreled down the tracks. He didn’t need to be told twice. The train station’s roof wasn’t very long (it wasn’t a very large town so the station was, likewise, not very large) so he only had a small distance in which to gain speed. Your timing was accurate to the second, as always. The moment he reached the end of the roof and leapt towards the train was the exact moment the first passenger car rolled by. Although the train was going significantly faster than him, he managed to land nearly silently on the roof; the passengers inside would likely be unable to distinguish his landing from the sound of the train jostling on the tracks.

A glance behind him told him you’d made it on as well, just one car behind him. A quick hand signal relayed your question to him in an instant. _Can you hear them?_

He shook his head. Between the thundering train and howling wind, he could barely hear his own thoughts, much less the people on the train below.

You nodded in understanding another hand signal giving him the plan. _To begin, search first class; front three cars of the train. Search general after._

It made sense. The scientists and the American were unlikely to travel with the masses if they wanted to stay hidden. It would make them easy, isolated targets, at least. 

It was a trust exercise, checking windows one-by-one together. He would hold you upside down by your ankles while you checked each cabin. You easily tuned out the fact that the countryside was whizzing past your head at an alarming rate. You trusted him, he trusted you. Simple as that. 

You were lucky. Not only were they in the third room you searched, they were so preoccupied arguing amongst themselves they didn’t notice you peeking into their room. 

You gave the Soldier the signal to pull you up and he did with an ease that never failed to impress you, even after all this time. It was like you weighed nothing. 

You communicated silently with hand signals the moment you were upright again.

_Three targets confirmed. One hostile. Weapons present. Not detected. Targets distracted._

It was all the information he needed, and you both knew what happened next. 

Sneak attack, while they were still preoccupied. You grabbed the grappling anchors from your belt and secured them to the roof; heavy-duty magnets that could be activated by a touch (they’d stick to your fingers and legs, otherwise, and that would have been problematic). The Soldier didn’t bother to strap the flexible thin metal cord onto his belt; he’d just grip it with his metal hand, like always. You, however, didn’t have that luxury, and strapped it to the rappelling rig in the front of your belt. 

Now was the part he hated. You’d go in first; your legs broke through glass and walls like none other… but he was always a second behind. 

With a nod of acknowledgement, you were off, practically throwing yourself off of the side of the train so you could swing back towards it… and crash directly through the window. 

Glass exploded as it made contact with your metal feet. The American agent had fast reflexes- he was reaching for his gun while the scientists cried out in shock- but the Soldier was already flying past you through the broken window, releasing the metal cord at the exact right moment to send him flying through the air, putting him in a position to kick the gun out of the man’s hand before he had the opportunity to fire it.

The scientists were starting to recover, slow as it was. The Soldier was easily gaining the upper hand against the American agent while you unhooked yourself from the grappling line, so you focused your attention on the scientists, hoping to secure them before they made a break for it. The man tore his gaze from the two fighting men to look at you, an undignified squeal of fear escaping his lips as he beheld you. The woman’s gaze flicked to you, terror dancing in her eyes. There was a bit of determined stubbornness there that wasn’t in the man’s, though. The man grabbed her arm roughly and tugged her towards the exit. 

_“Wait! We have to help him!”_ the blonde woman yelled, staring at the American agent who’d finally been pinned by the Soldier, a long, sharp blade inching closer to his eye. A moment or two longer and he’d be down one eye and a working brain. 

_“Are you mad!? We have to go before Hydra-”_

_Hydra? Hydra was on the train?_

As if on cue, the door burst open, revealing a man who was easily as wide as the doorway itself and nearly as tall. 

_“Hello, puppets,”_ the man sneered menacingly from beneath his black fedora. His beige trench coat had enough material to cover two of you. 

_“-Hydra arrives,”_ the man finished quietly, staring up at the giant in mute horror. 

The scuffle on the floor had stilled the moment the man had burst through the door, both the Soldier and the American agent turning to stare at this new intruder. 

The huge brute of a man had a sinister smile on his face that made you grit your teeth. He had a blood lust about him that had you wary. _“They trained me for you, little puppets. The Red Room is no secret to us. Hydra is everywhere.”_

You glare hardened and your gaze flicked to the scientists who were glancing anxiously towards the door behind the giant of a man. You were forced to look back at the man, however, when the gauntlets on his hands starting crackling with electricity. 

_Oh hell no they did **not**_ , you thought bitterly. 

_“I know your **weakness!**_ ” he bellowed, thrusting his hands outwards. A huge blast of energy arced towards the Soldier and the American Agent. They both managed to dodge, and the bolt of lightning hit the rug where they’d just been, the energy eating up the carpet in a blue blaze. 

_“You two, go! Shocky Dan will kill these three,”_ the brute said to the two scientists, who at this point had already nearly made it to the door. 

But you weren’t going to let Hydra get their hands on your targets. You rushed forward, while the big man was still looking half over his shoulder at the two scientists. He turned back just as they slipped past him, hand barely coming up to block your punch in time. 

“Soldier!” you yelled, voice loud even through the mask. 

_“Oh no you don’t!”_ Dan yelled as he brought a hand up, his glove ready and primed to send another electric black hurtling towards you or the Soldier. You felt the Soldier rush past you a moment later and heard the American curse and immediately chase after him.

Your attention, however, was focused on the behemoth in front of you.

_“A pale imitation,”_ you spat, charging up your own fists. You used three of your seventeen power cells; he wasn’t worth more than that. 

His eyes widened and he raised his hand to block the punch and-

Your fists collided midair and it was like the world exploded. The force of the electric blast sent you flying backwards away from the giant. You were grateful that you managed to avoid the window, though hitting the hard metal wall wasn’t exactly comfortable, either. 

Your hands sparked and you winced as your neural feedback implants malfunctioned. With a groan, you fell to your knees as the pain intensified. You hoped, distantly, that  _“Shocky Dan”_ had been incapacitated or killed by the blast, because your vision was blurring and you could hardly think straight. 

_**“Sorry, miss, but we simply can’t use your designs.”** _

_**“Can’t or won’t?”**_ you spat, glaring at the lieutenant colonel past the poor private that had been assigned with escorting you out of the army’s intelligence office in D.C. 

He let out a heavy sigh. His patience with you was wearing thin. _**“Both, ma’am. We don’t make contracts with civilians often and-”**_

_**“You buy from private companies all the time! It’s how you keep ahead of your enemies! My weapons are cutting edge! They could give you an advantage if we join the war-”** _

_**“That’s enough, ma’am. Private Lincoln, if you would please-”** _

Your nostrils flared in anger and you drew yourself up to your full height and glared down your nose at him. **_“Don’t bother, I can show myself out.”_** You said petulantly as you spun on your heel-

-and ran face-first into a woman who had just entered the lieutenant colonel’s office. Your blueprints and proposals fell from your hand and fluttered to the floor in every direction.

_**“Son of a-”**_ you bit your lip to cut off the torrent of swears and immediately crouched down to begin picking up your papers, not bothering to spare the woman a glance. _**“Sorry,”**_ you muttered perhaps a bit too angrily at her; it wasn’t her fault, after all. 

To your surprise she knelt down beside you and began helping you gather up your documents which had taken you weeks to draft. **_“It’s quite alright,”_ ** she said politely. 

_Huh. British._ That was odd, seeing as you were in a U.S. military building… but you didn’t want to be here a second longer than you had to. You had to find someone to sell your plans to if you wanted to eat this week. Maybe you could try your luck with Stark… though that was a bit of a pipe dream. You’d never sell to the Axis powers. You’d starve before you helped those bastards. Perhaps an Allied country would be interested? But how would you even get in contact with them? You didn’t have the money to travel and you doubted ambassadors would make the time for some random woman in ratty old hand-me-downs who looked like she hadn’t had a proper meal in weeks (in your defense, you hadn’t). Maybe you should just get a job at one of those call centers? The pay was shite, but at least it’d be _something_. Most employers weren’t willing to hire a woman, much less one without a general education diploma.

You were so lost in thought that you didn’t notice, at first, that the woman had paused to assess one of your blueprints. 

_**“Are these your designs?** ”_ she asked, drawing you out of your anxious thoughts. 

It was only once you actually looked at her that you realized exactly how stunningly beautiful she was. Full red-painted lips, shiny dark brown hair, and huge dark brown eyes… not to mention not a single blemish in sight. **_“Huh?”_** you asked every-so-eloquently.

[Originally posted by akamatthewmurdock](https://tmblr.co/ZIMhHj21__9Gj)

_**“These designs-”**_ she turned the blueprint so you could see what she was referring to, _**“-are they yours?”**_

You blinked once dumbly, then nodded quickly. **_“Yes, they’re all mine,”_ ** you said quietly, holding the now-messy folder up lamely. Why was she asking you about them? Surely she was just an assistant or something? 

A small smirk played at the corner of her lips and her eyes flashed with something you couldn’t quite place. _**“What’s your name?”**_

_**“Uh… (Y/N). (Y/N), (Y/L/N),”**_ you said, growing more confused by the second. She was British… maybe she had contacts in the British army?

_**“Agent Carter-** ”_ the lieutenant colonel began, but the woman held up a hand, and he bit his rebuke off with a harsh, annoyed sigh. 

She turned her mischievous, determined smile on you and you had the sudden gut feeling that you would like this woman very much, even though you’d just met her. **_“Miss (Y/L/N), my name is Agent Peggy Carter, SSR… how would you like a job working for the Allied forces?”_  
**

You beamed at the woman, a laugh of incredulous happiness leaving your lips. **_“Agent Carter, I’d like that very much,”_  
**

She grinned back at you and stuck out her hand, which you shook eagerly. **_“Please, just ‘Peggy’ is fine.”_  
**

You dropped her hand, huge smile still plastered on your face. **_“Peggy, then.”_  
**

You gasped as your vision began to focus back in on the present, the roaring of the train almost deafening, the freezing air flowing in from the window making you shake and shiver. The smell of acrid, burning flesh filled your nostrils and between that and your foggy, swimming head, you retched, bile splattering the singed carpet. Haggard and disheveled, you raised your head; sure enough, _“Shocky Dan”_ laid a few feet away, still smoking, cooked from the inside out by the blast. 

With your head slowly but surely clearing, you focused on the here and now; the mission and the Soldier. With a groan you stood, wincing at how sensitive the wiring in your skin felt. You shook the hallucinations from your head and did your best to calm yourself.

You staggered into the hallway and it only took a second to determine which way to go.

Towards the gunshots and screaming.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Still in pursuit of Peter and Mila Hitzvig, you and the Soldier fight through Hydra goon after Hydra goon in pursuit of your targets. Although separated, you both work towards your goals with ruthless efficiency… until Hydra executive Drain begins to mess with your heads.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pairing: Winter Soldier x Female!Reader
> 
> Warnings: Language (always), torture (mental and physical), blood, violence, death, forced suicide/suicide**
> 
> A/N: Go read The Bitter March. Do it.

[Originally posted by acrownofbloodandroses](https://tmblr.co/ZwW99t21MWT-s)

_With your head slowly but surely clearing, you focused on the here and now; the mission and the Soldier. With a groan you stood, wincing at how sensitive the wiring in your skin felt. You shook the hallucinations from your head and did your best to calm yourself.  
_

_You staggered into the hallway and it only took a second to determine which way to go.  
_

_Towards the gunshots and screaming._

* * *

**The Winter Soldier’s POV - Seconds after he left the room in pursuit of the scientists**

He didn’t like leaving you alone with that monstrosity, but he wasn’t left with much of a choice. He knew you could handle yourself.

He burst into the train’s corridor. By now, curious patrons had stuck their heads out of their doors at the noise, some even leaving the safety of their tiny cabins to investigate. A few people let out squeaks of surprise and horror at the sight of him, some retreating back into their rooms, others too scared to move. 

He ignored them all as he searched for his targets. He glimpsed the female scientist’s silky blond hair fluttering in her wake through the tiny windows of the doors that separated the cars. She was being dragged down the halls towards the dining car by her husband, though she seemed to be impeding their progress at every opportunity. He stepped forward with every intent to chase after them, but was side tackled before his foot even hit the ground. 

The Soldier and his assailant crashed through one of the cabin’s flimsy doors, startling the very naked couple on the nearby bed. The woman let out a shriek of surprise and the man was half a syllable into chewing them out when he spotted the automatic the Soldier pulled from the holster on his back. With a shriek and all dignity forgotten, the couple ran through the hole in the wall, not even bothering to grab the sheet to cover themselves up.

The Soldier turned his gun on his assailant- the American agent- with a vicious snarl, but the agent was already so close he was able to grapple for the weapon. The Soldier grunted as the agent threw punches at every inch of him that he could reach. He took at least three blows to the head before he was able to land a clean hit on the agent, who flew a foot or so through the air before he toppled to the ground in a heap.

With enough room to shoot, he raised his gun and fired three rounds into the man’s gut without blinking. He took a step closer and lined the gun up to his head, wanting to be sure the agent was finally dealt with indefinitely, even though he was quickly bleeding out on the floor. By the look of it, he was already losing consciousness. 

His brain told him to squeeze the trigger… but his finger didn’t move. 

_**“We both saw those camps, Cap,”**_ he heard himself say. Suddenly he was staring at a company of Nazi soldiers behind barbed wire, all defeated and weaponless, laying or sitting on the ground of the concentration camp’s vast muddy field.

There was a sort of tangible miserable hopelessness in the air. These men knew their lives hung in the balance. In the periphery of his vision, he could see a mustachiod man in a bowler, a Japanese man smoking a cigarette, and a severe-looking man in a maroon beret circling the soldiers, guns ready to be used at a moments notice, their eyes trained warily on the men. 

_**“We know what these people are capable of,”**_ he said darkly, glaring at the soldiers with disdain. 

_**“Maybe the right thing would be to just put them out of their misery and move on?”**_ said a voice next to him. He couldn’t see her, but he knew it was the woman that reminded him of his partner. Their voices were the same. 

The blond bespangled man let out a heavy sigh as he looked at him and the woman. _**“We’re**_ **not** _ **like them. We**_ **can’t** _ **be,”**_ he said, looking a little heartbroken at their words as he spoke. _**“We’re here to fix what the Nazis and Hydra have broken, not as some invading army. We don’t murder a defeated foe, for any reason.”**_

[Originally posted by crboston](https://tmblr.co/ZyvuSh2MQyJXJ)

There was a pause and he could see the man’s determined gaze in his mind’s eye, even as he saw the bloody and beaten American agent on the ground, his lifeblood seeping into the thick carpet. _**“And we’re sure as hell above killing men who can’t fight back.”**_

His body moved without him telling it to, and he found himself walking away from the man who was moaning in pain as he slowly died from his wounds. 

He stumbled out of the cabin and in the direction he’d seen the scientists heading earlier- towards the back of the train. All around him people were staring in shock, utterly confused as to what was going on. He ignored them and pressed onward and was halfway to the dining car when his earpiece crackled to life. 

“Winter Soldier, this is Command. Your readouts are highly irregular. Have you sustained damage?” the clinical voice asked.

“No… a few blows to the head followed by hallucinations.”

“What hallucinations?” the voice asked, sounding less composed than usual. 

“Results of the blows to the head. I’m fine now,” he said, wishing they’d shut up so he could concentrate. He was nearly to the dining car at this point.

“What were the hallucinations of?” the Soviet Command personnel asked.

“An American… A soldier with a shield…” he said, head hurting as it conjured up images of the red, white, and blue man. 

“That is highly irregular and unsettling. Abort mission and return at once. Get the other Winter Soldier and return with her as well. It appears her communication device has been disabled,” the voice said, sounding as close to panicked as he had ever heard it.

“It’s gone now. I’m fine,” The Soldier said dismissively as he made his way into the dining car. All around him was carnage. Every single soul in the dining car was dead. “The American agent has been neutralized. Hydra has my cargo and I’m on my way to collect both-” he paused mid-stride, gaze locking onto the body of Peter Hitzvig. He glared at the sight before him, then glanced around, reassessing the bodies. 

“Scratch that. Alchemy Black has been shot. Hydra likely still has Alchemy Blue.”

The fact that Alchemy Black was off the playing field must have convinced Command to let him stay in the field. “Get her back! She’s our last chance at the formula!” the Command personnel said commandingly. “Do not allow them to take her alive,” he added darkly. 

“Understood,” the Soldier said, stepping over the bodies of the passengers, occasionally stepping in bile and blood. 

One last glance around confirmed what he saw on Alchemy Black and the other corpses. 

They’d all killed themselves.

The Soldier pulled his favorite guns from his back and thigh holster and, with a deep breath, opened the door to the neighboring compartment. 

* * *

**Your POV**

It was only once you’d made it out to the hallway that you realized your communicator was on the fritz. It was emitting a low static hum that made your head hurt so you ripped the device from your ear and chucked it out the nearest window. 

As you walked, flashes of the woman- Peggy- intruded on your thoughts randomly. Each time you shook your head sharply and waited until it passed. Something was wrong with you, but you couldn’t contact command. It would be best to finish this mission then leave as soon as possible. 

You waded through the carnage in the dining car, sparing only a single glance at Peter Hitzvig’s corpse. 

The sounds of gunshots was getting louder and clearer. You recognized the guns immediately; Hydra standard issue and…

_The Soldier’s._

You burst through the door, hands charged, only to watch in horror as the Soldier and a white-haired Hydra agent toppled out the open cargo door and into the freezing night. 

“Soldier!” you screeched, drawing the attention of every living Hydra agent in the room, including the ones that were pouring into the room from the door opposite the one you’d just come through. 

It was easy to spot Mila Hitzvig amongst the sea of Hydra soldiers. At the very least, she looked unharmed and the Hydra Soldiers, though large in number, stood little to no chance against you… not to mention The Soldier seemed to have taken out quite a few of them before he’d fallen off the train.

Your only consolation was that the Hydra agent seemed to have been wearing a jet pack. 

If you wanted to get to him, though, you had a pack of Hydra lackeys to wade through. 

With a nearly feral screech you launched yourself at them. Your fist grazed the nearest soldier, but he didn’t fall. A punch landed solidly to another soldier’s gut resulted in the same; for all intents and purposes it was as though you’d _only_ punched him (although it was a good enough punch to wind the bastard). 

It was then that you realized.

Your shocks weren’t working on them. 

And there were at least fifteen of them and only one of you. 

With a curse you yanked out your twin pistols and began firing at them with deadly accuracy, ducking and dodging their bullets left and right. You used their own troops as human shields numerous times before planting bullets in their skulls. 

But eventually you ran out of bullets and there were still five or so left. Your hand flew to your hip, where you kept the long sharpened blade The Soldier had insisted you carry. For once, you were glad to have it (it usually just got in the way or weighed you down). 

Except it wasn’t there.

It must have gotten dislodged during your scuffle with Shocky Dan. 

Out of weapons and out of time, you squared up, hoping your hand to hand combat was still good enough to take out heavily armed and armored enemies. 

You were surprised, however, when the American agent made a reappearance. The fact that he’d survived the Winter Soldier twice was almost unthinkable, but you welcomed the distraction he made. Your fist connected with the face of the closest Hydra agent and he dropped, convulsing as he went. Their faces weren’t protected, at least, but it wasn’t exactly the easiest target. 

The female scientist seemed relieved to see him, but you were too focused on trying to stay alive to pay any attention to their conversation. Between you and the American, you dispatched the last Hydra agents in less than a minute. 

You barely spared the two of them a glance as you ran to the huge open cargo door, immediately scanning frantically for the Soldier and the Hydra agent with the jet pack. 

Even though the train was speeding down the tracks and the visibility was nearly nonexistent thanks to the blizzard-like conditions, you managed to spot them with your enhanced eyes. 

They were grappling midair above a small town in the valley below the tracks. The town was easily a hundred or so feet below them, and they were rising higher by the second. Even from this distance, you could tell something was wrong. He wasn’t fighting like he should have been. The Hydra agent had to keep both hands on his jetpack to keep it steady- a perfect target- but the Soldier was barely even moving, much less attacking. The glint of metal in the moonlight had your blood running cold.

He had his own blade to his throat. 

The bodies in the dining car came back to you in vivid clarity. 

They’d all killed themselves.

“Drain…” you whispered, eyes widening in horror. How had you missed the signs? The white-haired Hydra agent was Drain, famed for his skills. A psyhic and assassin, his victims all having one thing in common: a horrified expression on their face. He was the right hand of Hydra’s Chancellor Cassandra. Very dangerous. Very deadly. He could turn your own fears and failings into a weapon. 

But then the Soldier let go of the white-haired snake and began plummeting to the ground a hundred or more feet below, and something inside of you broke. Thoughts, memories, and feelings spilled forth in a overpowering torrent. You fought to stay afloat but you weren’t even aware of the piercing cry leaving your lips.

“Bucky! _No!_ ” you screeched into the apathetic night.

* * *

**The Winter Soldier’s POV - A few minutes earlier  
**

The scientist hit him and Drain with a fucking suitcase. He’d been foiled by goddamn _luggage_. 

He clung tightly to the Hydra agent’s leg, not liking the sight of the town far, far below him. He fought to clamber farther upwards, but the weather and the maneuvers the man was pulling in the jetpack made it painstakingly difficult. 

_“I can see into your mind, poor brainwashed toy soldier,”_ the man called out to him over the howling wind and roaring jets. 

The Soldier managed to get a hold on the man’s clothes and haul himself a few more inches, but Drain wasn’t finished yet. 

_“Oh, to see what they did to you. It would break your Captain’s heart,”_ he crooned, but the Soldier was already reaching for his knife. He was nearly close enough, now. 

_“Remember where you are from. Remember whom you stood by, through thick and thin,”_ he said, grinning malevolently down at the Soldier. 

Thoughts bounced around violently in the Soldier’s head as though they were trying to escape the confines of his skull. The same face popped up again and again, often accompanied by a woman. The woman. (Y/N). His (Y/N). His Stevie. The guys showed up, too; Dum Dum. Jacques. Gabe. James. Jim. His family flashed in his mind; Winnie, George, Becca. 

_“Ah, there it is. That flicker of recognition,”_ Drain said, sounding viscerally victorious. _“Our informant told us of your weakness; cognitive recalibration through force. Enough of it could show you who you truly are-”_

_**“Bucky Barnes!”** _

Steve’s furious face flashed in his head. The image was so clear it was like he was right there in front of him. The anger and disappointment he saw in his best friend’s eyes made him want to cry. He’d only just gotten his memories back, and Steve was already itchin’ to be rid of him by the looks of it.

_**“What have you let them do to you!? A bloodthirsty pawn of the Soviets!? You let them take (Y/N), too!? You’re just a faded memory who was better off dead,”**_ Steve said bitterly, his blue eyes full of endless disappointment and hate that twisted Bucky’s heart in his chest. 

He was right. He was better off dead and gone. This wasn’t him. He should have never let himself become _this._

He couldn’t even see Drain’s face anymore, just Steve’s. He eyed the blade in his hand and brought it closer to himself. To the gut would be slow and painful. In the eye might work. Maybe across the throat. 

_“You shouldn’t be here sullying your legacy. The final kill is yourself, assassin. Set things right-”_

Bucky raised the blade to his neck, tears streaming down his face. He was a failure. Ruined Steve’s good name. Couldn’t protect his girl. Killed dozens upon dozens of innocent people.

_“That’s it. Sink the blade in, Soviet puppet. I can see inside you! This is the only thing you’ve done right in some time, Mr. Barnes!”_ Drain said, grinning wickedly at the sight before him. 

Still, he was more himself than ever, and he refused to go down without a fight, especially to Hydra. Even with Drain toying with his mind, his hatred kept him hanging on. 

_“I-It’s you! Draining my will to live!_ ” Bucky choked out, tears freezing as they leaked out of his mask and down his face. 

_“Only because you know I’m right!”_ Drain insisted.

_“No!”_ Bucky bellowed, bringing the knife up to slash at the harness of the jetpack. The leather straps gave way like butter, but enough of it stayed intact to keep them both secured and aloft. 

_“Your existence is a mockery of **everything** your dear Captain fought for! Of every belief he held dear and tried to instill in you!”_ Drain bellowed. _“I’m telling you what your heart knows is true- he’d want you dead! Captain America would want this distortion ended!”_

He was right. Steve would never want to see him like this. He could never face (Y/N) again. She wouldn’t want a failure like himself. He brought the blade up to his neck, teeth grinding together as his mind raced a hundred different directions at once. 

_“Do the right thing! Do it- while you remember your sins! Only to preserve his legacy! Kill yourself!”_

The blade kissed his neck ever so lightly, a thin red line leaking onto the shiny silver blade. 

_“That’s it- Cut deeper, Mr. Barnes! Steve Rogers would have never allowed this to happen to him, but you-”_

Blood flowed down his neck in a rivulets, the blade cutting deeper by the second. 

_“You are weak! A stain upon his great legacy.”_

As Drain spoke, a thousand different memories flashed before his eyes. From saving Steve in back alleys to watching his back on the battlefield. Through it all, Steve; noble and good. A punk from Brooklyn who always stood up against the odds. For the downtrodden. The little guy. 

_**“We’ll die before we fall to Schmidt’s evil!”**_ Bucky heard him say as he punched a Hydra executive, the memory clear as day. 

_“He’d have fought it.”_

Bucky gasped in pain as the blade bit into his neck. 

_“Broken Hydra and the Red Room’s programming. He’d never have given up on you.”_

_**“I know it looks bad, Buck, but we’re not done! As long as we draw breath, we fight!”**_ The memory flashed before his eyes; one of the Hydra bases they’d taken down. They were outmanned and outgunned and if it hadn’t been for Steve’s rallying efforts, their journey might have ended then and there. 

_“You know I’m right. You remember. Oh dear, it’s not evil of me to help nudge you. It’s_ charity _.”_

_**“When we give up is our choice. Never reaching that point is the only thing we can do to honor the comrades that fell getting us here,”**_ Steve had said after a particularly bloody mission that ended with high Allied force casualties

_**“I couldn’t do this without you, Buck; taking down Zemo and Schmidt. No matter what, I’m with you till the end of the line.”** _

_“Steve… What have I done…?”_ Bucky murmured, eyes wide in horror. The blade left his neck and the cold wind bit into the cut, but Bucky barely felt it. 

_“Failed him! That’s all you’ve done, Mr. Barnes!”_ Drain screeched. 

His thoughts traveled to you and Steve. To the scientist. To the guys, to his family. To the American agent. 

He had unfinished business. He was a stain on Steve’s memory, but he couldn’t die. Not yet. Definitely not to this bastard. He glared up at him, one word and one act of defiance all he could manage against Drain’s influence.

_“No.”_

And then, Bucky let go.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You and Bucky have your minds back (well, parts of them, at least). A Hydra trap has you, Mila, and the American scrambling just to stay alive. Bucky makes a surprising alliance in his search for you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pairing: Winter Soldier x Female!Reader
> 
> Warnings: Language (always), torture (mental and physical), blood, violence, death, forced suicide/suicide**
> 
> A/N: **From this point on, English will be normal once again, with other languages being in “quotes and italics”.

[Originally posted by black-hail-bar](https://tmblr.co/ZdyLIk2SQd0HU)

_**“Steve… What have I done…?”** Bucky murmured, eyes wide in horror. The blade left his neck and the cold wind bit into the cut, but Bucky barely felt it.   
_

_**“Failed him! That’s all you’ve done, Mr. Barnes!”** Drain screeched.   
_

_His thoughts traveled to you and Steve. To the scientist. To the guys, to his family. To the American agent.  
_

_He had unfinished business. He was a stain on Steve’s memory, but he couldn’t die. Not yet. Definitely not to this bastard. He glared up at him, one word and one act of defiance all he could manage against Drain’s influence.  
_

_**“No.”**   
_

_And then, Bucky let go._

* * *

**Your POV**

You know that phenomenon? The one where you can’t look away from a situation obviously headed somewhere horrible? A car crash, a stranger walking into oncoming traffic with their nose in a book or a paper, or when someone shoots their mouth off to the wrong person? 

It’s like your brain is saying, “Witness this. Observe this while you can. Don’t blink, don’t turn away. It’ll be over in a instant and you can’t afford to miss a single second.”

Those seconds where you stood frozen in the doorway as the Soldier- no, _your star_. No… _Bucky_ \- plummeted towards the earth felt like a small eternity. You couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe. Your ears didn’t register the American and Mila Hitzvig, the former Nazi scientist, talking behind you. 

As the train hurdled around the turn atop the stone trestle that loomed over the town far below, all you could do was watch helplessly as the Soldier disappeared into the tree line far, far below you. 

Nearly without thinking you stepped forward, foot dangling out above the frozen wastes, nothing but the void outside the train car to step onto. 

You had to go to him. Had to find him. He needed you. Your Bucky. 

Before you could take that final step into nothingness, a huge explosion in the engine car at the front shook the entire train, sending you flying back into the car… and straight into the American agent and Mila. 

You scrambled back up, ignoring the squawk-like protests from the woman and the angry, harried warnings from the American, as you stared out of the huge doorway in shock. 

Hydra had blown the front car… and now it was careening off the tracks one car at a time… straight down into the canyon and town hundreds of feet below. 

The moment your brain managed to process this the train began tilting, already starting to fall. 

Your brain worked at light speed.

_Can’t save everyone. Not strong enough or fast enough. Can save American and Mila. Have to work fast. Grappling wire fingers. Talons on my feet.  
_

_Yes, I can do this._

The American had his arms around the scientist in a protective, almost lover-like embrace, as though he could shield her from the damage of plummeting two hundred feet in a train car. A particularly violent lurch sent all three of you flying towards the door. The three of you managed to scramble up and run to the passenger door at the back of the car. You all bolted for the back of the train. Maybe if you were lucky the three of you could-

The train car tipped off the tracks… and suddenly you were in a free fall. The woman was screeching bloody murder and the man grabbed her and manged to jump through the very last door of the train with you hot on his heels… but you were too slow. 

You were falling, the trestle getting smaller and smaller above you as you descended into the canyon. 

“I fucking hate trains!” you swore angrily as you dove towards them. The American agent must have heard you over the roar of the wind because he turned his head to look at you, determined to defend him and the woman even as he hurtled to his death. 

You didn’t have time for his shit.

Mimicking Bucky’s move in your earlier fight as castle Hydra, you righted yourself at the last second so you started falling feet first. Four large prehensile spikes burst forth from each of your feet and you saw the American’s eyes widen in fear. You didn’t blame him. You probably looked like an eagle descending on its prey. 

“Sorry about this,” you muttered under your breath before your talons wrapped around their arms. Sure enough, you felt one or two of them sink into flesh. They both cried out in pain, but you were already turning your attention elsewhere. 

“I hope to fuck this works,” you swore as you pointed your hands at the nearest wall; one of the thick stone pillars of the elevated railroad tracks. Grappling hooks shot out of two of your metal fingers, sailed through the air, and buried themselves in the thick stone. There wasn’t a whole lot of room for finesse- the ground was getting too close for comfort- so you braked hard, screaming in agony as the hooks and wires pulled at the muscle and bone in your hands and arms. Even with the metal wiring reinforcing it, it hurt like a bitch. The pain of hitting the wall hard felt like being tickled by a feather in comparison. The grappling hooks were only made to bear your weight, not the weight of you _and_ two other people. You heard the sharp _oofs!_ of the American and Mila hitting the wall. You hoped they were smart enough to put their arms and legs out to stop the worst of the impact. A glance downward told you they were still in once piece and conscious, though both of them were bleeding where your talons dug into their skin. 

To your dismay, the American agent pulled out a knife- one of Bucky’s knives- and glared up at you, murderous intent plain as day on his face. 

“Unless you feel like falling a hundred feet to the ground, I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” you said, giving him a hard stare. 

“Ran. Don’t,” Mila said, giving him a pleading look. 

The agent- Ran- stared at Mila for a moment before lowering the knife and shoving it back into his waistband. 

Ah. You knew that look. 

They were in love. 

With the danger temporarily averted, you began lowering yourself and the two of them to the ground. The cable was super thin and lightweight and you hoped it would reach the bottom of the canyon. The farther down you got the more the cables creaked under the stress of the heavy load. You found yourself flinching whenever they jolted in the wind or made a particularly loud noise.

The trip to the bottom didn’t take too long. You released Mila and Ran as soon as their feet hit the ground and dropped down next to them the moment your feet returned to normal.

“Go to the other side of the wall,” you warned, giving the two of them a hard stare. After going through all tat effort to save them, having them die because they got hit by your grappling hooks as they fell hundreds of feet would just be a waste. 

“Or I could just kill you while you can’t use your hands,” Ran said dangerously, ceasefire apparently no longer relevant now that he and Mila were safe on the ground. 

You sighed. “I just thought you might like not gettin’ brained by my hooks as they fall. Besides, I don’t need my hands to fight you,” you said evenly. 

Ran bristled at the implied challenge, but Mila placed a hand onto his shoulder and he seemed to immediately settle a hair. 

“Come on, Ran,” she said, giving you a glance before they retreated to the other side of the pillar.

With them safely out of the way, you deactivated the hooks and gave them a gentle tug. They came loose and began hurtling towards the ground. 

It took you a second to realize that maybe you shouldn’t be over here, either. The moment that thought crossed your mind you were running around the pole so safety-

And directly into Ran’s fist.

* * *

**Bucky’s POV**

 

He was getting tired of falling from shit. Even more tired of falling from shit and landing in the freezing cold. 

At least it numbed his ass.

How he’d survived that fall was beyond him, but he supposed he’d done it before. 

[Originally posted by gliceria](https://tmblr.co/Zspawh2GsBwAD)

“(Y/N)…” he murmured as he stared up at the cloudy sky. He swore he’d heard her scream his name as he fell, but that was likely the last wish of a man who thought he was headed to the river Styx. A mere auditory hallucination. 

Then again… she’d been breaking free of the Hydra programming, too. He hadn’t realized what was happening- at least not completely- before, but now that his head was clearing and he started to remember, it became clear. The brainwashing was fading. 

He had to find her. His wife. His love. His (Y/N). He had to get them away from Hydra and the Soviets. Out of this life. Go into hiding where they’d never be found. Find out… find out if Steve and the guys were still alive, along with his family… or if Zola had been telling the truth about his best friend.

But one thing at a time. First, find (Y/N). 

If she was still under Soviet control, she’d be after the scientist and the agent. Even if she wasn’t, they were likely the last ones to see her. Find the scientist and the American, find (Y/N). Or just find (Y/N). Whichever came first. Which meant he had to find a way back onto the train.

With a goal in mind he began the agonizing process of getting up and heading for the nearest town. 

As soon as he sat up and his vision cleared, though, his eyes widened in horror. The town was on fire… and the train had crashed on the streets of the town, some cars even smouldering on top of roofs. 

There was no way anyone inside had survived.

“Oh, Doll… don’t you be dead. Please, baby. I won’t be able to take it if you are…” he whispered as he marched painfully towards the town. 

* * *

The village was even worse off hat he first thought. Multiple buildings were crushed by the train and what hadn’t been crushed was on fire of threatening to catch on fire. Townspeople scrambled from the wreckage, some sporting wounds or carrying the dead. 

It was a horror show. 

Something these innocent civilians had no place being a part of.

Him, though? He belonged here.

Everything was in an uproar, so he attracted little to no attention. As such, he was able to move through the crowds with ease. A tiny prickling sensation in the back of his head told him which way to go, along with the source. 

“Drain,” he hissed venomously. 

The Hydra agent was obviously using his powers en masse, but for some reason Bucky wasn’t effected as strongly as before. 

He followed his sixth sense, his hunches proving correct when he saw people trying to kill themselves. 

There, at the center of it all, were Mila and the American. He had one of Bucky’s own knives out and was advancing on Drain, who had Mila by the hair on her knees next to him. 

“It is all your fault. And it is time to put an end to your fraudulent life,” Bucky could hear Drain saying. “Bring some justice to those you have failed. Before you shame your father.”

Bucky knew what was happening in an instant and was already in motion, making a beeline for Drain who was thoroughly distracted. 

“Shen- Stop!” Mila yelled, though a swift tug to her hair had her gritting her teeth in pain. 

“H-He’s right-”

“No, he’s not!” Bucky yelled as he jumped and brought down his metal arm in a haymaker across Drain’s face. The split second Bucky used to disarm Ran Shen by throwing his other knife at his hand was all it took for Drain to recover and drag Mila up. By the time Bucky had pulled his pistol out and pointed it at Drain, Mila was firmly between the two of them, blocking Bucky’s shot. 

“Take your shot- lose your master’s prize! We’ll go, you stay here!” He said as he retreated towards one of the alleys. “Maybe take out some of the competition?” 

Bucky had taken too many innocent lives, and he wasn’t going to take another, even to kill scum like Drain. Steve had taught him that. 

With a sigh he turned back to Ran, who was on his hands and knees on the ground, his mind scrambled by Drain’s attack. 

“He’s right, it’s true… I’m worthless. No one loves me… No one cares…” Bucky heard Ran say under his breath. He walked over to the man slowly, but apparently that was the wrong thing to do. “N-not enough to let me die? Have to do it yourself? Come on then!” he yelled, surprising Bucky with a leg sweep that sent him flying backwards. He landed on his back hard, his head thudding against the cobblestone street.

_I’m sick and fucking tired of hitting my goddamned head._

“Do this last one thing right!” Ran yelled desperately as he lunged for Bucky’s prone form. 

But Bucky wasn’t the best assassin in Soviet history for nothing. Even with his head ringing, he brought a boot up and shoved it directly into Ran’s stomach. 

“No,” he said, voice deadly calm. “I’m not your enemy,” he said as he flipped himself upright and back onto his feet. He had to get this man back to normal. Sooner rather than later. “The hydra agent sapped your will to live. You need to get over that, you need to keep fighting.” Bucky crouched down and extended his hand. “Mila needs help, and I need yours. Stand up, Soldier,” he said, slipping easily back into the role of giving commands. He seemed to respond well to this because his eyes cleared a bit and he sat up.

He took Bucky’s hand after a moment, confusion lining his features. “W-why are you helping me? W-who the hell are you?” he asked, still dazed from the psychological attack. 

Bucky pressed on. “I’ll fill you in on the rest once we’re moving. We’re going to get Mila back, Soldier, but I need you to do something for me.” Ran’s eyebrow shot up in question. “I need you to stand up.”

* * *

The tracks were easy enough to follow. Mila’s struggling made it easy, although it became clear quickly he was sapping her will to fight back. 

“Hows about that explanation?” Ran asked him as they hiked their way through the mountains. How Ran was staying warm in a thin blood-soaked cotton shirt was beyond him. Adrenaline was a hell of a drug, he supposed. 

“My name is James… and the last thing I remember is dying,” Bucky huffed. They were getting closer and Bucky just hoped they’d make it in time before Mila killed herself or Drain escaped with her. “Everything else… my memories are a mess. That Hydra psychic did somethin’ to my head. I need to find my girl and get the hell off the radar.”

“Your girl?” 

Bucky nodded solemnly. “The other Winter Soldier. The woman with the metal legs. Don’t even know if she’s alive.”

Ran went quiet for a minute. “She made it off the train in one piece. Mila and I saw her before we hid in the town.”

Bucky thought it was odd that you didn’t see them, but he was so relieved to hear you were alive he didn’t dwell much on it. He spotted Mila and Drain just up the way… standing on the edge of a cliff. Bucky and Ran broke into a dead sprint towards them and Bucky pulled a wire with a weighted end out of his belt as he went.

“All of our orders are the same!” the pale Hydra agent yelled. “Recover the scientists or eliminate them. If I can’t complete one, I _will_ follow through on the other.” 

“You’re not getting that chance!” Bucky yelled as he threw the wire towards Drain. As Drain tried to dodge he let go of Mila, who dropped like a rag doll to the ground, which meant the wire wrapped flawlessly around Drain. With a sharp tug Bucky reeled him in with his metal arm, straight into his waiting fist. He didn’t let up, his fists flying in a one-two punch. Drain fell to his knees, his pale face bloody and bruised. Ran roundhouse kicked him in the head and he fell to the ground in a heap, blood spilling from his mouth. 

“I’m starting to wonder if-” he was interrupted by a wet, racking cough, “-if I’m going to be able to deliver her, what with you two working ‘together’ now,” Drain said, just as slimy as ever.

“Speak another word and we’ll kill you like a dog,” Ran said dangerously, his fists clenched together tightly in anger.

“Mila, here’s your chance to save the world. All you have to do is jump,” he said, voice smooth like velvet and deadly as venom.

“Shut up!” Bucky roared, shoving his fist into the man’s face. He knocked out at least a dozen teeth, but the bastard was still alive. 

Ran turned to face Mila who had inched towards the edge of the cliff without them noticing, looking restless and paranoid. “Don’t do it! Remember all the good the formula can do. I believe in you, Mila,” he pleaded. He took a step towards he but froze when she took a step closer to the edge. “You’re right. It _can_ make the world a better place.”

“No, he’s right. This is the only way out, the only way to save lives,” Mila said, glancing over her shoulder at the frozen ravine below. Her foot ghosted the edge and she tipped backwards enough… and suddenly, she was over the edge and falling. 

“Stop! Mila!” Ran made to jump off the edge after her, but Bucky grabbed his arm. Ran turned around and looked like he was about to punch the living shit out of Bucky, but the look on his face gave Ran pause. The corners of Bucky’s lips were tilted up in a smirk. 

“She’s gonna be alright, Soldier. Let’s finish up here,” Bucky said, giving Ran a reassuring pat on the shoulder.

Ran hardly dared to believe him, but something in his gut told him he could trust “James” on this one.

“Look what you’ve done, fools! Lost the girl! There were two of you, and you couldn’t save a single girl from herself! You should just jump, too,” Drain said, though his speech was somewhat hampered by his missing teeth.

Ran and Bucky approached him, single-minded in their thoughts. “Let’s see what it takes to finally shut you up,” Ran said as he rolled up his sleeves. Bucky stepped down hard on the man’s shin and the bone broke beneath the force. Say what you would about Hydra, but their agents were no joke. Drain barely flinched. 

Ran walked up to him and stomped on his head with shiny black shoes. What was left could barely count as a face. “Cut off one head and two more shall take its place…” Drain wheezed. 

Ran smiled darkly. “I’ve always wanted to see if that was literally true,” he said before he straddled the man and began raining punches down on his face. 

He hit him until Drain’s face was only a bloody, pulpy mass and his own knuckles were bruised and raw. Wordlessly, Bucky placed a hand on Ran’s shoulder and the hits stopped immediately. 

“C’mon, Soldier. He’s dead. We have work to do,” Bucky said, offering his hand once more. Ran took it and stood up, panting heavily. 

“But Mila-”

Bucky pointed to the crest of the cliff. “Told ya, she’s gonna be alright,” Bucky said with just a hint of smugness as your head appeared over the edge of the cliff, Mila’s limp form slung over your shoulder. 

Ran smiled widely, not seeming to believe his eyes at first. Bucky wore a much more subdued expression, though his affection for you was shining in his eyes. 

You spotted them and, after a brief moment in which you stared at Bucky in wonder, you glared. “Are you just gonna stand there gawking like a couple’a idiots, or are you gonna help me?” you said bitterly. 

Bucky snorted and walked over to you. Yup, that was his girl alright. 

“Oh, right!” Ran said, quickly trotting over to help you with your precious cargo. Ran hefted Mila over the edge and the second you were free of her Bucky lifted you up one-handed and set you back down gently.

You stared up at him, wonder lining your features. “You’re alive.”

He smiled back and brushed your hair out of your face. “So are you.” 

You lunged forward and wrapped your arms around his waist. He was warm and real and felt like home, even after everything that happened. “We have some decisions to make…” you murmured, to which Bucky hummed in agreement. “But first…” you broke away from Bucky and stalked forwards to Ran, who was trying to wake Mila up. He looked up just in time to see your fist flying towards his face. His head snapped back with a satisfying _whack_ and you pointed a finger at his face threateningly when he opened his mouth to speak. “ _That_ was for knocking me out,” you spat. You turned back to Bucky who was watching you with grim amusement. 

_Yup, definitely my girl._

You smirked at the look on his face. “Where to, sweetheart?”


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You, Bucky, Mila, and Ran seek safety together. Can your tenuous truce hold? How will you and Bucky cope with your converging lives and memories?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Language (always), mentions of torture (mental and physical)  
> A/N: **From this point on, English will be normal once again, with other languages being in “quotes and italics”.

 

[Originally posted by imaginemarvelbae](https://tmblr.co/ZaK2qd2MvVNey)

_You lunged forward and wrapped your arms around his waist. He was warm and real and felt like home, even after everything that happened. “We have some decisions to make…” you murmured, to which Bucky hummed in agreement. “But first…” you broke away from Bucky and stalked forwards to Ran, who was trying to wake Mila up. He looked up just in time to see your fist flying towards his face. His head snapped back with a satisfying **whack** and you pointed a finger at his face threateningly when he opened his mouth to speak. “ **That** was for knocking me out,” you spat. You turned back to Bucky who was watching you with grim amusement.   
_

_**Yup, definitely my girl.**   
_

_You smirked at the look on his face. “Where to, sweetheart?”_

* * *

**Your POV, a short while earlier**

You awoke with a start, snow flying everywhere. You immediately started shivering and swore. 

“Son of a bitch punched me!” you growled, quickly hopping to your feet to get out of the freezing snow bank. You swore again when you realized your fingers still weren’t wound up yet and began retracting them carefully, shivering as the freezing metal transferred the chill to your hands. At last your fingertips clicked back into place and you let out a sigh of relief. Nothing had broken in the fall, but damn if your arms weren’t sore. 

You finally turned your attention to the town below. It was on fire and you could hear the screaming from here. Everything in you wanted to stay and help, but you had to find _him_. 

Bucky. 

Dead or alive, you weren’t leaving him for the Russians, Hydra, or even SHIELD to find. They’d never touch him again. You spotted a high church tower in the middle of town and decided to start your search there. It should serve as an adequate vantage point.

You moved silently through the town, its harried citizens too engrossed in their own problems and panic to notice the shadow slipping between the streets like a ghost. You vaulted yourself onto the roof with your legs and from there it was only a matter of finding the right handholds or digging in with your feet’s claws to make it to the top of the tower. You clutched the wooden cross on top, nearly losing your balance when it broke under your grasp. 

“Shit,” you muttered, trying in vain to put it back on. With a sigh you simply placed it gently on the edge of the tower’s roof and let it be. You figured you’d done enough evil shit that god would have smited you by now if he was going to. Vandalism was the least of your crimes… that or jaywalking.

You began searching the area for any signs of Bucky, Ran, or Mila. Bucky was your first priority, but there was a good chance you’d find him if you found Ran or Mila. Either he was still under Russian control and hunting them or the big ol’ bleeding heart was trying to help them.

After a minute you spotted a familiar feminine tuft of blond hair followed by an almost sickly pale man with white hair. You knew Ran wouldn’t be far behind. With luck, Bucky would be along right after him. Seeing as they were the only lead you had, you decided to take it. You leapt from the tower and landed heavily on the ground, rolling to disperse some of the impact, although they put shock absorbers in your legs for a reason. You charged off towards where they were headed, a mere flash to passersby. It was impossible to spot them through the walls of the town and you wondered if you could alter the cybernetics in your eyes to give yourself x-ray vision later, but quickly shoved the thought aside and pushed onward in the direction you’d seen Mila and Drain running. 

You’d apparently taken a wrong turn somewhere because you found yourself on the wrong side of a crevasse that was easily fifty feet across. You spotted Mila and Drain trudging along the frozen wastes, mere yards from the edge of the other side. Movement on the treeline distracted you, your heart nearly skipping a beat as you spotted Bucky (and Ran). They spotted Mila and Drain and made a break for the two of them. Drain casually tossed Mila to the ground in an attempt to defend against Ran and Bucky’s onslaught, but something was wrong. Mila wasn’t moving right. The boys were too distracted by Drain to see, but she was moving towards the ledge, not away from it. You couldn’t hear more than a few words yelled over the howling wing, but you knew what was happening. Drain was using his powers on Mila. They weren’t going to make it to her in time. You backed up a few steps and gathered power in your feet. If your timing was off, one of both of you were going to die. 

Why the hell did you keep having to save these people?

Ran seemed to look up at the last moment and try to reason with her, but she was already teetering on the edge. With a choked swear you ran as fast as you could and jumped at the last second, jets in your feet propelling you even faster and farther. Mila tipped off the edge as you hurtled towards her and just before both of you disappeared into the ravine, you saw Bucky’s gaze dart to you, his eyes widening in recognition. 

Mila was screaming bloody murder. You were getting real tired of it by now. You caught her before she fell too far, which you were thankful for. Climbing all the way back up would have been a bitch.

“Hold on!” you warned her. Her eyes were wide and fearful but she did as you warned, wrapping her arms securely around your neck and her legs around your waist. It was a truly impressive impression of a baby monkey.

For the second time in an hour you deployed your grappling hooks, the strain less horrible with only two people’s weight. Still, your _everything_ was sore, and you grunted your displeasure at the pain. 

“We’ve gotta stop meeting like this,“ you said with a grim smirk. Free of Drain’s influence, Mila couldn’t help but let out a disbelieving laugh. 

“You’re making jokes? Now?” she asked, incredulous. 

You shrugged and, once you were sure she wasn’t going to slip from your grasp, began climbing upwards. “Would you rather I go back to trying to kill you?” you asked, eyebrow raised.

Mila shook her head quickly and you snorted. “Yeah, didn’t think so.” She stared at you as though trying to decipher a particularly interesting puzzle. You wished your still had your mask so she couldn’t see your face. All this staring was giving you the heebie jeebies. 

“You saved me again. Why?” she asked with narrowed eyes.

You supposed she had every right to be suspicious. You did try to kill and/or kidnap her at least 3 times. “Because you’re not evil. And, once, I protected people like you from people like me,” you said sadly. You still couldn’t remember a lot of details, but enough had returned that you could start to piece together the person you used to be. 

Mila rolled her eyes as she watched you struggle up the cliff face. “I’m quite sure there are no people like you…”

* * *

“There’s no way it’s still there,” Bucky said with a frown. The four of you were standing in the cold, Mila and Ran shivering from their unintentional under-dressing. 

“What are you two arguing about?” Mila asked, finally done with being left out of the conversation. 

“I know a safe place we can go,” you said, glancing at Ran and Mila out of the corner of your eye. 

Bucky glared at you. “It’s probably being used by someone at this point, we can’t risk being seen,” he argued.

“Sorry, _what’s_ probably being used by someone?” Ran asked, just as annoyed as Mila. 

“My cabin,” you said the same time Bucky muttered “A death trap.” 

“You have a cabin? In the middle of Germany?” Mila asked, surprised. 

You shrugged. “I did… a few years ago. Haven’t exactly been around to check in on it, but I kept it off my accounts. The only people who know where it’s at…”

Bucky’s stare was flat, but he at least wasn’t glaring anymore. “Are me and you.”

“And it’s close by?” Ran prompted, his teeth chattering together.

Both you and Bucky nodded, though he did so more reluctantly than you. 

“Then I vote we go there,” Ran said, to which Mila nodded in agreement. 

“It’s out best bet. We can’t risk going back to town. It’s guaranteed to be crawling with Soviets, Hydra, and maybe even SHIELD by now,” you argued.

With a groan Bucky finally nodded. “Yeah, alright. Fine. Let’s get going,” he said, immediately stalking off in the direction of your cabin. It would be a half day’s walk because you’d have to be careful and cover your tracks. 

You started following Bucky, put paused when you spotted Mila. She was shivering and even Ran’s efforts to warm her up didn’t seem to be helping. Wordlessly, you shrugged your jacket off and held it out to Mila. If your suspicions were correct, you wouldn’t need it as much as she did. She looked from the jacket to you, brow furrowed in confusion, before she accepted it and pulled it on. Her shivering lessened only slightly, which you supposed made sense. She was in a skirt, after all. There was only so much a leather jacket could do. 

“Thank you,” she said with a tentative smile. You merely nodded and worked on catching up with Bucky.

He spoke the moment you fell into step next to him. “This is a bad idea,” he said with a frown. 

You sighed. “It’s the best idea we have.”

He groaned and glanced over his shoulder at Mila and Ran. “I wanna help ‘em, I really do, but…”

“They’ll paint an even bigger target on our backs?” you said. He nodded and you sighed. “I know, Buck. But we’ve done enough terrible shit the last twenty years. I don’t want to leave them behind,” you said stubbornly. 

The two of you walked in silence for a moment and you jumped when you felt his fingertips ghost against your hand. “Sorry, I just-”

“No, it’s okay. Just surprised me is all,” you said, eyes glued to the ground in front of you. 

“Oh.” There was a pregnant pause before Bucky reached out again and twined his fingers together with yours. Your gaze fell to where your hands met, slight furrow of your brow lining your face. It felt so familiar. So warm. So right. Being with the man next to you was the only thing you knew, and you weren’t sure you’d survive him being taken from you again, no matter which way it happened. 

The rest of the trip was spent in silence. It was a heavy, suffocating thing. Both of you wanted to say something, but neither one of you knew where to start. It was hard to talk about anything with only a fraction of your memories intact. 

* * *

“Hey, I think I see it,” said Ran. You glanced up and, sure enough, the cabin was maybe a few hundred feet away tucked between a copse of trees. If you weren’t looking for it, it was easy to miss.

“Think my old traps are still up?” you muttered, eyeing your surroundings warily. 

Bucky glanced from you to the cabin, eyes narrowing instantly. “I’d bet they are, yeah… You always built your tech to last.”

You glanced over your shoulder at Mila and Ran. “Follow us closely. This place is booby-trapped to hell,” you warned.

Mila’s eyes widened and Ran glared at his surroundings. “Does that mean someone found this place?” he asked, searching for any signs of enemy movement.

You smirked as you turned back towards the cabin. “No… I just really didn’t feel like being interrupted on my honeymoon…” you muttered, just loud enough for them to hear. Next to you, Bucky cracked a smile and squeezed your hand gently. You returned the gesture, small smile creeping onto your face. 

Ran and Mila looked at each other, completely lost, but you waved them on over your shoulder and they hastened to catch up to you and Bucky.

* * *

The cabin was more of a two-room shack. The front room had a wood stove, a table, chairs, a basin for water, cooking utensils including pots and pans, dishes, a tiny closet full of tools (axes/hatchets, buckets, a broom, etc), and an old radio. The second room was a bedroom with a ratty mattress that had held up surprisingly well over the years, a chest of drawers, a large mirror, and a closet full of linens. 

It wasn’t much but the walls were thick and kept out the cold, which is ultimately what mattered.

You took Mila and Ran back to the bedroom immediately, hoping your and Bucky’s old clothes would fit the both of them… and that the clothes themselves would still be there and be intact. The fact that you’d had to pick the lock to get in made you believe nothing had been stolen, but the years might not have been as kind. 

To your immense relief, everything had survived. If Mila and Ran questioned the obviously dated clothing, they didn’t say anything. Current fashion wasn’t all that different, but it was obvious enough that anyone with a trained eye would notice. 

You returned to the front room and worked on making a fire, only starting it up once you were sure the chimney was clear. 

“The smoke could give our position away,” said a voice behind you. You jumped again and turned to look at Bucky, who looked apologetic. “I’m sorry.”

You shook your head. “It’s alright. I… I let my guard down here, it seems. With you. In this place. I feel… at ease. Or at least as much as I ever will…”

Bucky nodded in understanding and wrapped his arms around you ever so slowly from behind, giving you plenty of time to tell him to stop or for you to pull away. But you did the opposite. You leaned back into his arms, your back coming to rest gently against his chest. You breathed deeply, your frayed nerves soothed by his presence alone. When you felt him rest his lips on the crown of your head you shut your eyes and let his touch take your mind away to a less painful place. One of a newlywed couple that had been through much hardship but still somehow found it in their hearts to love not only each other but other people as well. A couple that fought every day for the good in the world. Who had hopes and dreams and people that loved them.

You didn’t realize you were crying until Bucky’s gentle voice shushed you and he turned you around in his arms, eyes searching your face worriedly. He wiped the tears from your cheeks with his right hand and you fell forward into his arms, your face buried in his chest. “It’s alright, (Y/N)… It’s going to be alright… we’ll fix it. We can do it together,” he murmured, breath tickling your ear. 

You clung to the hope his words gave you like a drowning woman at sea. He was right, the two of you together were unstoppable. The Winter Soldiers.

No.

The Barneses.

You looked up at him through your lashes, blinking away the remnants of your tears. “We can’t go back to them, can we? The guys? Your family?” 

He shook his head sadly, his chocolate hair swaying gently. “No, Doll. Not until we fix everything… maybe not even then. We’re not the same people we once were and I’m not puttin’ any of ‘em in danger…” he murmured as he ran his fingers through your hair. 

You nodded in understanding, even as your heart broke just a little bit more. You gave him a tentative smile when you spoke. “I’m glad I still have you, Bucky,” you whispered. His returning smile made your heart flutter in your chest and you realized how much you missed feeling… well, _feelings_. Anything at all, really. 

“You’re my world, Doll. Even at my darkest point I recognized that.”

You couldn’t help the tear of happiness that leaked down your cheek. “And you’re my light, my star. Always.” 

He leaned down and placed a short, tender kiss to your lips and it took every ounce of your willpower to keep yourself from falling apart at the seams. “We… we have plans to make, love. First, I need to make sure all of my traps are still up and running around this place. Wouldn’t wanna get snuck up on by Hydra or _the motherland_ ,” you said, hissing your hatred for both groups. 

Bucky nodded and placed one more kiss to your forehead. “We’ll go check on them in a minute, I-”

Ran and Mila opened the door to the bedroom and stepped tentatively into the front room. Bucky’s shirts were just a little loose on Ran, but fit well enough. You gave Mila your loosest, baggiest shirt, but she somehow still managed to pull it off with a flawless ease that made you envious.

Mila looked hesitant to talk to you and Bucky, so it was Ran who spoke up. “Does this place… have any food?” he asked, his question punctuated by a sharp growl from Mila’s stomach.

You turned to Bucky, who in turn glanced at the empty cupboards above the counter. 

Bucky glanced at Ran’s wrist-mounted crossbow before his gaze traveled up to the man himself. “Do you think that thing can kill a deer?”


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Summary: You, Bucky, Mila, and Ran settle into the tiny cabin together. You and Mila bond. Later, Ran has an ultimatum for you and Bucky.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Language (always), mentions of sex  
> A/N: My computer officially died, guys. I’m working on getting a new one, but I’ll be on this shit machine for a while longer.

[Originally posted by midnightinparis](https://tmblr.co/ZmUmJx2FBSEmc)

_Ran and Mila opened the door to the bedroom and stepped tentatively into the front room. Bucky’s shirts were just a little loose on Ran, but fit well enough. You gave Mila your loosest, baggiest shirt, but she somehow still managed to pull it off with a flawless ease that made you envious._

_Mila looked hesitant to talk to you and Bucky, so it was Ran who spoke up. “Does this place… have any food?” he asked, his question punctuated by a sharp growl from Mila’s stomach._

_You turned to Bucky, who in turn glanced at the empty cupboards above the counter.  
_

_Bucky glanced at Ran’s wrist-mounted crossbow before his gaze traveled up to the man himself. “Do you think that thing can kill a deer?”_

* * *

As it turned out, your traps had held up nicely over the years. Not to toot your own horn, but the fact they’d survived multiple German winters (almost 20 years worth) was pretty impressive. 

Ran and Bucky had left a while ago to hunt, leaving you an Mila alone at the cabin. Both of them had been hesitant to leave the two of you, but you’d reminded them (with a hint of annoyance) that you were both capable women. Ran was still a little unhappy leaving you alone with Mila, but knew he was in no shape to fight if someone attacked the cabin. Thus, you stayed back to check on your traps and guard Mila. 

It hadn’t taken that long, so you returned to the warmth of the cabin quickly, shrugging off your thick winter jacket as soon as you were in the door. To your surprise, Mila was in the kitchen, going through one of your old notebooks from the 40′s. She glanced at you as soon as you walked in the door, giving you a look you couldn’t quite place.

“You. You’re a scientist?” she asked, holding up the notebook.

“It’s rude to go through people’s things, you know,” you said grumpily as you sat down in the chair across the table from her. 

She gave you a guilty smile. “Forgive me. I was bored and I found it while I was cleaning out the bedroom,” she said sheepishly.

You waved away her apology. “It’s alright, I understand. No harm no foul,” you said, relaxing into your chair. It felt good to just… sit and relax for a change. Enjoy the heat of a warm fire, the company of another human being that treated you like an actual person and not a weapon, and not having to go back and be frozen for years at a time.

_The little things, you know?_ you thought sarcastically. 

“You were, though, were you not?” Mila pressed, biting her lip nervously. She still didn’t know you very well and, if you were being honest, _you_ didn’t know you very well either.

You shrugged. “In a way, I suppose. Though I think ‘inventor’ or ‘engineer’ might be a better word for it.” 

Mila looked intrigued, though. “What did you make? These notes are amazing. It’s vague, but I can tell they hint to a chemical compound that would effect a cell at the genetic level. It’s astounding,” she said, glancing down at the pages.

You gave her a disarmingly soft smile. “May I?” you asked, holding out your hand slowly as to not startle her. Your fingers glinted in the low light and you saw her gaze flick to them for a second before she handed the notebook over with a brave smile. You took it from her and stood, rifling through the pages as you walked around the kitchen. “Thanks,” you said, flashing her a smile.

“No prob- No!” she yelled as you opened up the wood stove and threw the notebook inside. You slammed the door shut and Mila looked at you in shock. “Why?”

You shrugged as you sat back down. “Some secrets are better left unspoken.”

Mila gave you a long, hard stare before she sighed. “Fine, they were not my secrets anyway.”

You smirked. “I thought you had enough secrets to worry about anyway.”

She frowned and studied her hands as she thought. “Yes, I suppose I do. The Alchemy formula… I created it to do good for my country. Help them recover after the war…”

You frowned, knowing full well which war she was talking about. Even through the haze of your spotty memories you remembered kicking Nazi ass. A lot of it.

“But people like my husband, Hydra, the Soviets. Even my own country’s leaders. They would use it to rule the world. For their own selfish gain. I never wanted that for my formula.”

You, however, were confused. “Sorry, go back. _Your_ formula? I thought you and your husband created it together?” 

She scoffed. “Please, Peter was intelligent but he could never fathom the work I did. I think it embittered him towards me in the end. I ceased to be his wife and became a tool he could use to gain power. It was out of necessity for my survival that I ran and hid with him. He had connections that could get us somewhere safe… or at least, that was the idea,” she said with a wry smile. 

You, however, snorted. “Of course it was all you. Should have known. I know all about living in a man’s shadow…” you said bitterly. 

Mila raised an eyebrow. “James? But he didn’t seem the type to-”

You however, were already shaking your head. “No, no. Not James. Never James. I don’t remember a lot, but I remember that.”

Mila’s frown deepened. “Then who?” 

You shrugged. “All of them. Men, that is. Or most of them, at least. I never got a chance to show anyone my designs. I was an orphan, a kid… and then I was a woman. The world didn’t give me a chance. Not until…” your sentence drifted off as a face swam in your vision. You remembered her on the train. The woman with the brown hair, wicked smirk, and sharp wit. Peggy, you were pretty sure her name was. A man with a mustache and too much product in his hair flashed into your thoughts. You could practically hear his voice, and, though the words were indistinct, you could hear the swagger in his tone. You couldn’t remember his name, but you knew the two of you were close. Worked on technological designs together. He was a friend.

Mila watched you quietly, not quite sure of what to do. She resolved to let you be until you came back to yourself, which ended up being a few minutes.

Your gaze refocused on her face and you blinked a few times, confused. “Sorry, what were we talking about…?” 

Mila’s heart hurt for you. You were broken and missing pieces, but still tried so hard to stay strong and cling to what you knew. It was as admirable as it was tragic. “Nothing much. You were telling me about the traps outside,” she said, trying to change the subject.

It seemed to work because your face visibly brightened at the mention of your work. Mila had the sudden realization she might have just opened a can of worms that may have been better left closed.

* * *

Ran and Bucky returned an hour or so later, fat deer slung over Bucky’s shoulder. A scream from inside the cabin startled both of them and they moved in a flash, deer dropping to the ground with a thud as they ran to the door. Bucky reached it first and wrenched it open. He froze in the doorway and Ran nearly bowled him over trying to get past him.

“Move, assho-!” he stopped when he took in the scene in front of him.

You and Mila stared at them with wide eyes. Mila was on top of one of the chairs and you were crawling under the table. When Bucky had wrenched the door open it startled you so bad you’d jumped and hit your head against the solid wood. You rubbed the sore spot tenderly, hissing obscenities.

“What… what’s going on?” Ran asked, looking between the two of you in confusion.

“Rat,” was your entire explanation. It was enough for Bucky who merely let out an annoyed sigh and went to pick up the deer he’d dropped. Ran, however, was still confused and looked to Mila for clarification while you continued crawling around on the ground.

“There was a rat. It crawled over my foot and now (Y/N) is trying to find it to kill it,” she said sheepishly. 

Ran sighed. “So neither of you are hurt?” 

“Just our pride…” you muttered under your breath.

Mila shook her head, though, and smiled. “We’re fine. Promise, Ran.”

“I’m not gonna hurt her, jackass. Go help Bucky,” you said bitterly from under the table. Ran glared at the back of your head and Mila stifled a giggle. He looked to her for some reassurance and she smiled and nodded and shooed him out the door.

“You’re letting all the cold in. _Go_.”

* * *

Dinner was simple and, frankly, a little bland. You and Bucky were used to it, but it was clear Mila and Ran weren’t. You’d found some tubers nearby and added them to the soup pot. The only seasoning that lasted twenty years was salt, so there wasn’t a lot of variety in the flavor department. Mila and Ran ate at the table while you and Bucky sat side by side on the ground in the kitchen. 

You couldn’t remember the last time you were able sit and enjoy a hot meal… so you did just that, buoyed by the calming presence beside you. When you were done you set your bowl down and rested your head against his shoulder. It was his right one, so his warmth diffused through the cotton shirt he was wearing. 

He smiled down at you and placed a gentle kiss to your forehead before he returned to his food. You admired how happy he looked for a moment; he looked more like his old self than ever. The man from your memories and the man in front of you were remarkably similar, except this one had longer hair, a short beard, and you sometimes glimpsed the metal of his other hand. 

There was also the haunted look in his eyes but you had the same look so it barely registered. 

Mila and Ran talked quietly over dinner and, although you and Bucky could hear both of them quite clearly, you pretended you couldn’t. 

That was until Ran spoke directly to the both of you. “We need to talk.”

You both looked at him, then at each other. You gave him a tiny nod and he returned it before he stood, placing his bowl on the counter. You both knew this was coming, but you weren’t expecting it quite so soon.

Bucky leaned up against the counter and you hoisted yourself up onto it and sat. You sidled up next to him, your feet clattering sharply against the drawers below with a _thwack_ that seemed to startle Mila. You gave her an apologetic half smile which she returned after a second. 

Bucky leaned back and looped his arm around your waist, his hand coming to rest on your hip. The simple touch was comforting beyond words and you practically melted into his side. 

“You two should come back with me. Turn yourselves in to SHIELD,” he said determinedly. 

_Ah, no work up to it, then. Good._ You hated mincing words. “We decline,” you said easily.

Ran frowned, but Mila looked intrigued. He didn’t let it go, though… not that you or Bucky had expected him to. “You two have enough secrets in your heads to end the cold war tomorrow. Come back with me and you’ll receive a hero’s welcome. We’ll fix everything in your head up, set everything right.” 

“It’s not an option right now, Shen,” Bucky argued. “Drain’s tampering woke us up to a nightmare. The things they had us do…” Bucky’s voice trailed off as the both of your eyes glazed over for an instant as horrors passed in front of your eyes. “We’ll come in… but some bad people are going to die before we do,” Bucky said darkly. 

Your mind flashed to Zola, who was still alive out there somewhere. You hadn’t seen him in years, but if Hydra was still around, he almost assuredly was, too. There was also Hydra itself. The Soviets. People who paid them to use the two of your for their own agendas. 

Ran was right, the two of you had enough information to end the cold war… but you had so much more than that, too. 

He considered Bucky’s words for a moment, deep frown lining his features. “What do I tell SHIELD in my debriefing? That I didn’t bring you back because you had some loose ends to tie up?”

You smirked. “You’ll think of something. Call it payback for saving both of your lives,” you said playfully. 

Ran let out a resigned sigh. “I’ll need regular contact, names of targets, and a hard date of return. You miss a drop and I spill everything,” he said, jaw set stubbornly. 

You glanced at Bucky and gave him a small nod of assent. If keeping in contact with Ran was the price you had to pay for freedom and the chance at revenge and setting a few things right, you sure as hell would take it. 

“Agreed,” Bucky said as he turned back to Ran, giving him a nod. 

“Remember, if you end up back with the Russians- every bad thing you do is on my head,” he said, giving both of a hard stare in turn. 

“We won’t, and I’ll make sure there’s no trail to you,” you assured him.

He nodded, satisfied for now. Mila looked lost in thought, but came back to herself when Ran spoke again.

“So, what’s the plan?”

“Hide out for a day or two. Let them expand their search radius away from Germany. Let them think we escaped the town and the forest. Let them spread themselves thin and make our escape then,” Bucky said, in full tactics mode. You always liked when he did that. You glanced at him out of the corner of your eye, proud smile tugging at your lips. 

“And if they find us here?” he pressed.

“Then my traps will kill most of them, we’ll kill what’s left, and we’ll run for our lives,” you said, giving Ran a flat stare.

“We would not be better off running now?” Mila asked, frowning. 

Bucky shook his head. “The areas probably still crawling with Hydra and Russians. Can’t risk it.” 

Mila let out a resigned sigh and leaned back in her chair. “I see.”

You hopped off the counter, landing with a loud metallic clang on the smooth concrete floor. “Get some rest, you two. I still don’t know how you survived those fights on the train, but you have to be tired,” you said, giving Ran an almost motherly stare. “You two can take the bedroom.” 

Mila’s brows knit together in confusion. “But-”

You held your hand up to halt her objections. “We won’t sleep well on it, trust me. We’ve been sleeping on hard surfaces for twenty years. Just take it. I’ll take the first watch.”

Mila and Ran glanced at each other before nodding, a faint shade of pink dusting her cheeks. 

You walked over to the door and slipped on your thick coat, grimacing at the thought of sitting outside in the snow for hours. You paused at the door. “If you get bodily fluids on my bedding I’ll kill you,” you said darkly, not bothering to turn around or even look at them. Without waiting for a response you opened the door and stepped outside. You could just barely hear Bucky’s deep chuckle followed by Ran’s unsure voice.

“She was joking… right?”

* * *

You already knew the most likely path of attack. Hell, you’d known them all those years ago, too. You trapped it to hell along with any other likely route enemies would take. Still, it was difficult to keep your eyes on every angle. You sat against the chimney and tried to trick your mind into thinking it could feel the heat from the fire below. You weren’t sure how much time had passed since you left the house, but your ass was well and truly numb when you heard the door to the cabin open. You could just barely hear the crunch of snow below you. The sound stopped after a moment and you weren’t too surprised when Bucky appeared in your peripheral vision and sat down beside you. 

[Originally posted by rohgers](https://tmblr.co/Z5pd8h2DE1No6)

“Almost didn’t hear you that time…” you whispered, earning a soft chuckle from him.

“Ready to take a break, Doll?” he asked kindly, voice deep and soothing. 

You shook your head. “Can’t go back in there. Don’t trust ‘em enough to fall asleep. Don’t want to fall asleep anyway… the nightmares’ll come back…” you muttered, gaze a hundred miles away. 

Bucky frowned sadly and cupped your face between his hands. You were so lost in thoughts you didn’t react until his lips were on yours. Your lips were so cold his felt like fire against yours; the kiss warmed you from the inside out and you kissed him back eagerly. You could feel him smile into the kiss. 

It wasn’t enough. 

You straddled his lap and tangled your fingers in his hair and gave it a sharp tug. He groaned low into the kiss and your heart threatened to beat out of your chest at the sound. You loved him. Loved him so much it hurt. Now that you had some of your memories back you were finally able to put a name to that horrible feeling in your chest that had been there, unyielding, for the last twenty years. Heartbreak. Your body and soul recognized this man, but your head had tried to convince you otherwise. 

His hands slid to your sides and down to your hips where he pulled you more firmly to him. You let out a small whimper at the delicious friction between your bodies. You broke the kiss, panting, and stared into those steel blue eyes that felt like home. “Please, Buck. I need you. I need you so bad,” you pleaded.

His eyes burned with lust and passion as he captured your lips with his and his fingers trailed down to the waistband of your pants. 

He broke the kiss and stared at you with such adoration that you nearly started crying. “I love you, (Y/N).”

You smiled at him; the first genuine, unabashed smile in nineteen years. “I love you too, Bucky.”

* * *

Below, Ran and Mila lay in bed wide awake. 

“They’re fucking on the roof.”

“Yes, yes they are.”


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You and Bucky spend time together on lookout. Bucky overhears Ran and Mila’s conversation and gives you a nearly irresistible offer. Later, everything goes to shit (It wouldn’t be Ghosts of War if it didn’t, right?)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Language (always), violence, blood, guns, death, major character death  
> A/N: Sorry. Kind of.

[Originally posted by wintersthighs](https://tmblr.co/ZpgCLr2BOvrIv)

_He broke the kiss and stared at you with such adoration that you nearly started crying. “I love you, (Y/N).”_

_You smiled at him; the first genuine, unabashed smile in nineteen years. “I love you too, Bucky.”_

_Below, Ran and Mila lay in bed wide awake.  
_

_“They’re fucking on the roof.”_

_“Yes, yes they are.”_

* * *

“Wake up, Doll,” murmured a gentle voice in your ear. 

You were awake instantly but once you realized there wasn’t any imminent danger, you snuggled back into Bucky’s embrace, a grumble of discontent leaving your lips. 

“Wazzit, Buck?” you muttered, face smashed against his chest as you tried to recapture your ability to fall asleep.

“You’re gonna freeze out here,” he said as his fingers cupped your chin and coaxed your head upwards. You opened your eyes slowly and they immediately focused on Bucky’s concerned expression. A languid smile worked its way onto your face as you let your heart swell with emotion. Even after everything, Bucky still worried about you in these little ways. A quick glance around revealed it was still night time, though you couldn’t be sure about the exact hour.

“M’fine, Buck. You’re warm,” you argued. You reached for his hand slowly and turned his palm towards you, then placed a light kiss right in the center. He smiled at you and cupped your cheek with his hand and you leaned into the touch as his thumb ran gently over your cheek. 

“Go get a blanket, at least…” he chastised, though his voice was so soft you knew you’d won the argument. 

You winked at him and pecked him on the lips. “You got yourself a deal,” you said playfully, smiling down at him as you hopped out of his lap and off the roof. You snuck- as quietly as one could with metal feet- through the cabin and into the bedroom. It was a testament to how tired Ran and Mila were that they didn’t even stir when you tiptoed into the bedroom and rifled through the linen closet for the thickest blanket. It was a horrid puce color, but the thick fabric ensured you and Bucky wouldn’t get cold. 

You quietly shuffled out and paused long enough to throw another wood log into the stove. Maybe that way the house wouldn’t be an ice chest come morning. The winter air hit you like a wall when you opened the door to the outside, but you bravely ignored it and shut the door quietly behind you. With a single, graceful jump you were back on top of the roof. You paused a moment to enjoy the sight in front of you. 

[Originally posted by acognitivedistortionnn](https://tmblr.co/ZwYYCf2FpT2U2)

The moon and stars were out, bathing Bucky in a pale glow that made him look almost ghostly. He was lost in thought, but you could tell he knew you were there. After a moment he glanced up at you, gaze clearing a bit as he returned to the present. He smiled at you and you couldn’t help but return it. When he held his hand out expectantly your grin widened and you quickly walked over to him, throwing the blanket over your shoulders before you sank down onto his lap. His strong arms went around you, pulling you close to his chest. 

“You really should be the one on lookout,” he said with a crooked smile.

You snorted. “I think you’re 20/10 vision will do the trick,” you said, placing a kiss to the center of his chest. 

He let out a chuckle. “I suppose you’re right.”

You glanced up at him. “I’ll take a shift if you want to sleep for a while,” you offered.

He shook his head. “Not tired yet. Maybe in a little bit, though,” he said with a smile as his fingers ran gently through your hair. 

You nodded in agreement. “Whatever you say, Bucky.”

He smiled at the sound of his name and you grinned right back, leaning up to capture his lips in a loving kiss.

Eventually, though, sleep began to creep back up on you and you rested your head on his right shoulder. 

“Ran and Mila were talking earlier,” he said quietly, drawing your attention.

You were too tired to sit up and look at him. “Were you eavesdropping?” you asked with a smirk.

Bucky frowned. “They weren’t exactly quiet about it. It was more of an argument.”

You shrugged. “We weren’t quiet, either,” you said salaciously, earning a short bark of laughter from Bucky.

“No, no we weren’t,” he agreed with a smile. After a moment, though, you both sobered. 

“What were they arguing about?” you asked curiously.

Bucky sighed. “I didn’t get all of it, but it seems like Mila doesn’t want to go back to SHIELD with him.”

“That makes three of us…” you muttered bitterly. 

Bucky’s hand slid under the blanket and he rubbed gentle circles into your back. You let out a small content noise that had him smiling. “Ran’s fallen in love with her. He’ll probably agree to whatever she says… and it sounds like they want to escape somewhere together. They’re worried we won’t agree,” he explained. 

You frowned. “Where does that leave us? I thought Shen wanted to keep an eye on us as a SHIELD operative.” 

Bucky sighed. “I dunno. They’re thinking about goin’ to impoverished countries. Mila thinks her formula can do some good there.”

“You’re not so sure,” you said, staring up at him as you tried to read his face.

Bucky shrugged. “I’m not sure it matters what I think. It’s her formula. And its their lives. They’ll have targets on their backs their whole lives if they leave like that…”

“Is there a ‘but’ to that thought?” you asked, eyebrow raised in question.

Bucky gazed down at you. “We could go with them. Or meet up with ‘em after we finish taking out the trash. They’re good people… we could help them.”

Your hands gripped tightly to the fabric of his shirt. “Maybe, Buck… but our mission comes first,” you said, gaze hard. 

Bucky nodded and squeezed you gently. “I know, Doll… I know.”

The two of you sat in silence for a minute before you spoke again. “But after…” you murmured.

Bucky leaned back so as to get a glimpse of your face. “(Y/N)?” he asked quietly, eyes searching yours.

“After… I think I’d like that,” you said, giving him a small smile as you stared up at him through your lashes. 

He grinned down at you and gave you a gentle kiss. “Yeah, Doll. Me too.”

You sighed. “They remind me of us… before, y’know?”

Bucky nodded and placed a kiss to your forehead. “Maybe that’s why I like ‘em so much.”

* * *

Bucky woke you up in the early hours of the morning. He went downstairs and grabbed some food for the both of you (apparently Mila had cooked for everyone) before returning to your spot on top of the roof. You spent some time talking about things you remembered from before the fall, but eventually Bucky laid his head in your lap and fell asleep. You took up position as lookout and ran your fingers through his hair while he slept.

That was until you spotted movement a couple miles out in the forest.

“Bucky, wake up,” you said, tone deadly serious. His eyes shot open and he was sitting up in the blink of an eye. 

“What is it?” he asked, already looking around for the danger. 

“I think they’re closing in on us. The Russians, if I’m not mistaken. We need to get out of here,” you said, not taking your eyes off of where you’d seen the movement. If you just strained your eyes- yes, there it was again, and this time you spotted it in other places, too.

“I’ll hold them off. You get Ran and Mila ready. Just like we planned, alright?” he asked, blue-grey eyes serious as he stared at you.

Your heart thudded in your chest as you stood on your toes and placed a brief, fierce kiss to his lips. “Five minutes, you hear?”

He smiled at you. “Yes, Misses Barnes.” 

He jumped off the roof and ran into the forest, but you were already headed the other direction off the roof and into the house. 

Mila and ran were conversing lazily at the table, but they both jumped to attention when you burst through the door, expression thunderous. “Russians found us. Bucky’s taking care of the first squad, but we need to get out of here. Get ready, just like we planned,” you said, already moving to arm the booby traps in the cabin. 

Mila and Ran didn’t need to be told twice. They gave you terse nods and threw on their winter jackets, grabbing the bare minimum for survival. 

You were all headed out the door when Bucky reappeared, a concerning amount of blood on his jacket. 

One look at your worried expression and he was shaking his head. “It’s not mine, (Y/N). Let’s get moving.” 

You nodded and the four of you ran away from where you were pretty sure they were coming from. Bucky was in the back, hastily hiding your tracks so it’d be that much harder to follow you. 

You’d barely made it three minutes before there was a loud booming explosion behind you. 

All three of you glanced over your shoulders and your anxiety spiked up another level. 

“That was too soon,” Ran said, gaze hard. “We need to get-”

“Down!” Bucky yelled, tackling the three of you to the ground just in time to dodge a cascade of bullets that sailed over your head. You winced as the metal bit into the nearby trees and sent splinters of wood flying everywhere. All of you quickly scrambled behind trees. You and Bucky shared a quick nod, plan formed instantly. “(Y/N), Ran. Take point. I’ll cover,” he said, pulling his pistol from his thigh holster. Ran seemed hesitant, but the four of you didn’t have many options. One careful glance around the tree revealed at least twenty men all working their way through the forest in one cohesive, well-trained unit. 

You trusted Bucky with your life and were ready to go in an instant. “Ready, pal?” you asked, giving Ran a wicked smirk. He gulped and nodded and you simultaneously burst forth from your cover. Ran shot one directly in the eye before they had a chance to do anything and he dropped to the ground, dead as a door nail. You powered your jets on, praying you had enough fuel left to get you through the fight. You charged the nearest two men, not even flinching as bullets flew past your head from behind, Bucky hitting his marks perfectly; two soldiers behind the ones you were attacking fell, dead. Ran grappled with one while you dispatched two. You grabbed one’s pistol and tossed it to Ran, who’d managed to incapacitate his opponent by shoving his thumb in the man’s eye socket. The longer Ran fought with the two of you, the more he seemed to trust you. Bucky covered both of your blind spots perfectly, just like you knew he would. 

When one of the Russians spotted Mila and took aim at her, you moved without thinking, crossing the huge space in an instant, jumping up for a kick to the head just as Ran arrived and went for a low kick. The man’s skull cracked grotesquely against the frozen ground and he didn’t move again. Mila looked from you to Ran, eyes wide with fear. 

“Run!” you barked at Mila. This wasn’t the time to freeze. They weren’t after you, Bucky, or Ran. Their target was _her_. She had to get away, or she’d end up dead of captured. 

The Russians gave chase, but you, Ran, and Bucky had been expecting this. The fight moved towards the nearby stream and while you and Bucky took down opponent after opponent, Ran fought whatever made it through you two. When all was quiet on your end, you looked over to him to find him standing over a dead man who he’d obviously drowned in the river. 

Mila came trotting down the riverbank, still obviously on edge. “Ran, are you all right?” she asked, looking him up and down for any injuries. 

“Yeah, we’re fine…” you muttered bitterly under your breath, rolling your eyes. Bucky smirked and nudged you gently in the ribs. You returned his smirk with one of your own. 

Ran nodded quickly and turned to you and Bucky. “We’re not going to keep getting this lucky. We need a plan.” 

You nodded and Bucky spoke up instantly. “These soldiers didn’t come through the canyon. They would have sprung (Y/N)’s traps,” he said, to which you nodded in agreement. 

“They came by helicopter,” Ran said, nodding along. You had to give the man credit; he was good.

“Right,” Bucky agreed. 

“There’s only one good landing zone for miles,” you said, frowning. 

Bucky glanced at you questioningly and you nodded. You’d discussed this option, but you weren’t expecting to have to use it. 

“We can act like we’re still their operatives. We can get Mila onto the helicopter and get her out,” Bucky said, knowing it was a hard sell. 

“Hell of a trust exercise…” Ran said, face shadowed as he glanced between you and Bucky warily. 

“It gets better…” Bucky muttered, letting out a long sigh.

“Only way it works is if the soldiers think they’re still on your trail…” you said, staring at Ran determinedly. 

Ran glanced down and then back up at you two with a resigned look in his eyes. “I’m the bait.”

You and Bucky nodded, but Mila looked horrified. “What?! No! We’re not leaving you behind!” she argued, her delicate fingers tangling in Ran’s jacket. 

Ran shook his head, though. “No, they’re right. This is it. This is the best chance we have. They’ve almost definitely called for backup now. We won’t get another chance like this.” He turned to you and Bucky, gaze hard. “You get her out safe.”

You nodded. “We will. We promise,” you said solemnly. 

You and Bucky turned away to give them a moment while you stripped yourself of the thick winter jackets, leaving only your usual gear. You fought back the chill that ran down your spine from both the cold and the feeling of wrongness at being in your Winter Soldier uniform. 

“When you’re out, head to Cairo. Ask for the Barrel Bar and give them my name. Lay low. I _will_ find you. Wait no longer than a day,” Ran said, the emotion in his voice making your heart twist. 

“Shen…” Mila began, her voice sad and hesitant.

“No goodbyes. Just don’t forget about me and run off with the next secret agent that saves your life, alright?” he said playfully. You could practically see the smirk on his face. 

You grabbed Bucky’s hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. He glanced down at you, tender smile on his face. He gave you confidence and you took a deep breath. You could do this. Infiltration is what you were trained for. This would be a piece of cake. It was just a matter of Ran getting his ass out of the fire at this point. 

“I–” Mila said, but you could tell she was crying because her voice died in her throat and she let out an almighty sniffle. 

“I know,” Ran said tenderly. 

There was a beat of silence and you knew- even though you couldn’t see them- that they’d shared a kiss. 

You finally glanced over your shoulder. “We need to move,” you said, eyeing your surroundings. You didn’t see anyone yet, but that didn’t mean they weren’t there. There were enough trees and hills in the area to hide an entire platoon. 

Mila gave you a stiff nod and put on a brave face as she wiped the tears from her cheeks. You gave Ran a nod as you took her by the arm. “See you in Cairo, Shen,” you said, giving him a bracing smile before you, Bucky and Mila made your way towards the landing zone. 

* * *

**Ran’s POV**

Ran watched as the three of you disappeared into the treeline, his jaw set in determination. 

_If anyone’s going to get her out, it’s them. My mysterious friends James and (Y/N), the Winter Soldiers._

_Now, for my part._

Wordlessly, he began working, setting his trap for the Russians that would be swarming the area any minute now. 

He grabbed the drowned man’s knife and set to work on tearing his arm off. 

_No way in hell am I rolling over for the Soviets. Doesn’t matter what I have to do-_

He plunged the knife into the elbow joint a few times and twisted the forearm, which started to give way, blood going everywhere. 

_I **will** see you again. _

* * *

With his trap set, Ran waited in a tree, completely still. Just like he expected, the Russians noticed the arm immediately and converged on it. He pulled the pin on the grenade in his hand and lobbed it at their group. They screeched and tried to retreat, but it was too late. The men at the front of the group were blown to pieces by the blast and Ran didn’t give them time to regroup. A crossbow bolt to the eye socket took out another, but Ran was already lunging forward with his gun in-hand, his shots taking out soldier after soldier in the confusion. 

But his luck couldn’t last forever. One snuck up behind him and plunged his knife into his back. Ran let out a bellow of pain before his words were cut off.

_Lungs won’t take air-_

_Muscles cramping-_

_Leaves me helpless._

He collapsed into the snow, brain already slowing down. He could hear one sound above the rest, though, and it gave him hope. 

_Helicopter drowns everything else out-_

_They got away.  
_

_I can accept this.  
_

_My life for hers…_

He pictured her in his head as the Russian soldiers converged on him. Her pretty blue eyes and blond hair. The way her nose crinkled when she smiled.

He barely registered the rifle being held to his face. He was at peace.

That was until the man’s head exploded.

“You pinkos are really bad at this!” came a voice Ran wasn’t expecting to hear. Ran looked up just in time to watch his partner- Junior Juniper- smash one of the men’s faces in with his rifle. 

“I mean, not even leaving a sentry or rear guard? Sloppy,” he scoffed, quickly dispatching two more soldiers. “Gonna make this cold war too easy,” he said, throwing a bola that wrapped around a man’s neck, which exploded a second later. “That’s what you get for messing with a Howling Commando,” he said with a smirk. He quickly made his way over to Ran, who was busy trying to not cough up a lung while also trying to get enough air to breathe. “Alright, buddy, I got you,” he said, hauling Shen upright. 

He had to get air. Needed to warn Juniper. All that came out was a short, choked noise. “Gakk-”

“I know you’re in rough shape but we’re looking at a full-on war here. Where the hell are the scientists?” Junior asked hurriedly. Ran tried to sit up, say anything to get Junior to understand, but it was all for naught.

_Punctured lung- sucking wound._

Ran let out another choked sound. “Akk-”

_Damn it. Damn it damn it damn it. Can’t move. Can’t speak._

His gaze traveled to the helicopter which wasn’t far enough away yet, and to his horror Junior’s eyes followed his. 

“Ah, hell!” Junior exclaimed, dropping Ran so he could take aim at the helicopter. 

_No, stop him! Please!_ his mind pleaded. 

Junior’s orders hadn’t changed. He was going to-

“Just in time to make the hard choice,” Juniper murmured, raising his rifle as he carefully aimed his shot. 

Ran gathered the last of his strength, arm reaching out desperately for Junior who was just barely out of his reach. _Please, please-_

“S-stop,” he managed to choke out, but-

**_BAM!_ **

The slug left Junior’s rifle, the sound deafening even above the helicopter’s speeding blades. Ran knew it would fly true and he had barely a second to comprehend what was happening before the bullet struck the helicopter.

It immediately burst into flames in a loud explosion, chunks flying every direction. Ran looked on in horror as pieces fell to the ground, his love along with them. You and James, too. 

As he watched his life incinerate before his eyes, one thought rang out above the rest.

_Two promises broken with a single bullet.  
_


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The aftermath of your mission in Germany hits hard. Ran learns about your fates.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Language (always), death, major character death  
> A/N: This chapter is a little shorter than normal, but it’s a good transition point. Sorry.

[Originally posted by darlingiamobsessed](https://tmblr.co/ZZIFdi2C-eJCk)

_Ran gathered the last of his strength, arm reaching out desperately for Junior who was just barely out of his reach. Please, please-_

_“S-stop,” he managed to choke out, but-_

_**BAM!** _

_The slug left Junior’s rifle, the sound deafening even above the helicopter’s speeding blades. Ran knew it would fly true and he had barely a second to comprehend what was happening before the bullet struck the helicopter._

_It immediately burst into flames in a loud explosion, chunks flying every direction. Ran looked on in horror as pieces fell to the ground, his love along with them. You and James, too.  
_

_As he watched his life incinerate before his eyes, one thought rang out above the rest._

_**Two promises broken with a single bullet.** _

* * *

**Ran’s POV**

He awoke with a start, his drug-addled mind taking in his surroundings at a sluggish pace. 

The first thing that registered was the pain. Breathing hurt, but he could tell he’d healed a lot since he was last conscious. 

White walls. Sterile cleanliness. Heart monitor. IV. 

Hospital. 

Ran tried to sit up, but it was absolute agony and he let out a pained groan as he fell back onto the mattress. 

He spotted a small bell on the table beside his bed and reached for it carefully, not wanting to hurt himself again. He rang it loudly and a moment later a nurse came tiptoeing through the door, small smile on her face when she realized he was awake. 

“Good morning, Agent Shen. Glad to see you’re awake. You took quite a beating,” she said as she walked over. 

“Where am I?” he rasped, his voice hoarse from disuse. 

“At a SHIELD medical facility,” she said chipperly. She moved to start checking his vitals, but he waved her away. “Need to talk to the boss. _Now_ ,” he said stubbornly when she looked like she wanted to argue. 

She sighed and nodded. “Fine, but I’m checking your vitals as soon as you’re done talking to him,” she bargained, to which Ran nodded in begrudging agreement. 

He closed his eyes and breathed shallowly as she scuttled out of the room to go fulfill his request. 

A few minutes later Dugan walked into the room, trademark bowler sat jauntily on top of his head. 

“Where’s Agent Carter?” Ran asked, narrowing his eyes at Dum Dum.

Dum Dum only laughed and shrugged. “She’s got a life too, y’know.” 

“And you don’t?” Ran challenged, raising an eyebrow at him. 

Dum Dum sat in the chair and let out a beleaguered sigh. “We played rock paper scissors to decide who’d stay in case you woke up. I lost, obviously,” he said with a smirk. “Could be home with my family right now, but no. I have to be here lookin’ at your ugly mug,” he said with a smile, any hint of malice absent. 

Ran rolled his eyes. “How long have I been out?” he asked, dreading the answer.

Dum Dum frowned. “A week. The Russians turned you into a pin cushion. Honestly, I’m surprised you’re awake right now,” he said, sounding just a bit impressed. 

Ran sighed and reclined in his chair. He couldn’t stay here, not anymore. Not after Mila. James. (Y/N). Not after Drain’s tampering with his head. He may have driven him to madness, but when Ran came back to himself he realized his life here in the U.S. was hollow. Mila had opened his eyes, and he refused to shut them again. 

Dum Dum leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees and clasped his hands together. “I’m sure you’re curious about what happened,” Dum Dum said. Ran looked at him, eyebrows tilted upwards in question. Dum Dum took this as a sign to proceed. “Our people were the first ones on site, but only one body was recovered.”

Ran’s eyes widened. _Maybe-_

Dum Dum continued, oblivious to Ran’s internal struggle. “They’ve identified the corpse as Mila Hitzvig, the Alchemy scientist.”

Ran’s heart plummeted, and he felt retched. Mila was dead, (Y/N) and Bucky were missing. And he hoped for a second it was one of you and not her. He was sure the two of you wouldn’t have abandoned Mila. You were almost assuredly on that helicopter. The fact that you were missing pointed to one thing, and one thing only… and Ran’s face darkened at the thought. 

“With everything Juniper told us in the debriefing, that wraps up this mission nicely, Ran. Junior made sure we knew just how well you did out there,” Dum Dum said, sending him a fatherly smile. “We’ve already lined up your next assignment. It’s a big one,” Dum Dum said with a knowing smile. How he couldn’t see Ran falling apart inside was beyond him. “We’re  finally in a position to slip an agent into Chairman Mao’s camp. But first, you’re going to have to be able to pretend to truly hate the U.S. and have bought fully into the communist manifesto,” Dum Dum said seriously. “Think you can pull it off?” he asked, eyebrow raised in challenge. 

A wave of calm determination overtook Ran’s senses even as his hatred boiled deep in his gut, and he nodded. “Yes, sir,” he said coolly.

Dum Dum beamed and stood, patting ran shoulder’s gently. “Atta boy. Get better soon. That’s an order,” Dum Dum said with a wink. 

* * *

**Russia, the Red Room**

Scientists loitered about, regarding the two unconscious bodies strapped to the tables in the center of the room as though they were a particularly intriguing puzzle and not two human beings. 

The woman was little more than tubes and wires, though the man was better off. He had burns all over his body, but they were rapidly healing. 

_“We will need to install concussive dampeners here and here, while fulling insulating the cybernetics,”_ one said, pointing to spots on the man’s arms and the woman’s legs. 

_“What about the psychic issue?”_ another asked, checking the data attached to his clipboard. The Soldiers had experienced widely fluctuating brainwaves before their connection to them had been terminated a week ago. _“That was what broke down the conditioning,”_ he said with a frown. 

_“We have a team looking into psychic blocks and ways to remove mnemonic triggers,”_ the first one said.

The second nodded knowingly. _“That should suffice.”_

Another chimed in as the first placed a delicate metal machine to the forehead of the man on the table. _“We won’t make the same mistakes again. When we are done with our Winter Soldiers…”_ he paused, because as soon as the machine turned on, the man’s eyes opened wide until they were mostly white and his screaming drowned out all the other noises. 

The man squeezed his eyes shut and ground his teeth against the mouth guard. 

_“… There will be nothing left of who they were.”_

A half second later, the woman’s screams filled the room, her eyes wide with terror as the machine did its work. As though awoken by her cries, the man began screaming again, too.

* * *

> _Project: Winter Soldier  
>  Scientific Analysis. June 7 1968._
> 
> _Comprehensive mental evaluations of Codename: Winter Soldiers were conducted over the course of the past week. Diagnoses are varied, but most in Dept. X Science Team believe that their mental states are becoming unstable. In the two years since they were awakened from stasis, it appears their minds are seeking to fill the holes in their memories, or possibly rebelling against the implanted memory reprogramming they received originally. The subjects have recently begun to exhibit more than usual curiosity, even to the point of questioning orders from superiors and once in the past month, they attacked a fellow operative, nearly killing him. On interrogation, they could not explain their actions._
> 
> _One theory is that just as they have reflex-memories that allow them to be such effective operatives, they may also have deeply buried senses of who they were, or at least of what kinds of people they were. As such, these deeply buried ideas may be causing them mental stress and triggering turmoil in their thoughts. Another theory, which is more disturbing, is that they may actually be remembering their previous lives, though in small pieces only. It is therefore recommended that Codename: Winter Soldiers be kept in stasis between missions, and that they undergo Mental Implantations at every awakening. We believe this will correct their instability issues, so they can continue to be of use to Department X._

* * *

**Your POV - California - March 11th, 1973**

From the moment you stepped off the private plane, you knew something was wrong. This place was familiar. The star-spangled flag stirred something within you. The happy families speaking English, too. It was just so American. All of it. You should have hated it. You were a Soviet through and through; a spy at that. An assassin. A weapon. 

But you didn’t. You felt at ease here. Like you belonged.

But you had a mission to do. 

You glanced to the tall man next to you and his eyes fell to you, expression unreadable. His blue-grey eyes were another story, however. You could see the storm brewing behind them. He felt it, too. 

Maybe you weren’t broken, after all. Maybe it was just this place.

You clutched the bag slung over your shoulder more tightly to yourself and allowed yourself to relax, at least on the surface. You were a master assassin; getting found out because you had some anxiety would be the greatest failure you could think of, except maybe failing to eliminate your target.

The Soldier didn’t say anything as you walked. He didn’t say anything ever, really. The two of you could communicate without speaking You almost always knew what he was thinking during missions. The fact that you couldn’t concerned you a bit, but you wouldn’t let his weird mood ruin your mission.

You arrived at your motel just a short while later and threw the bag down onto the bed. He threw his on the ground and you began prepping your things. The target was Senator Harry Baxtor. You didn’t know why the Russian government wanted him dead, but you didn’t care. They pointed, you shot. That was how you survived. 

You took your boots off with a contented sigh. Having your primary weapons hindered for the sake of staying undercover was a necessary evil, but damn if you didn’t feel relieved when you were finally barefoot. 

_“The Senator will be alone at his home tomorrow. We’ll move on him then,”_ the Soldier said as he rifled through the mission file. 

You nodded crisply. _“Understood.”_

_“I’ll order food. We shouldn’t leave the room unless absolutely necessary,”_ he said, picking up the phone on the bedside table. 

You scoffed. _“Obviously.”_

He rolled his eyes and dialed one of the numbers on the little tent with takeout options printed on it. 

Thirty minutes later there was a knock on the door. You’d put your boots back on and walked up the door cautiously, glancing warily through the peephole. When all you saw was a bored-looking teenager holding two pizza boxes, you nodded to the other Soldier who was waiting just out of sight, gun drawn in case there were enemies. 

You pulled some crisp bills out of your back pocket and plastered a smile on your face as you opened the door.

“Oh my goodness, that smells _amazing!_ ” you gushed in a perfect American accent. 

The pizza boy suddenly looked flustered and swallowed thickly. “Th-that’ll be uh-”

“$4.30, right?” you asked with a wink, smile on your face as you held out a five and a one.

The poor boy blushed and clumsily handed you the boxes, not even questioning the gloves on your hands. He took the bills and went to his pocket to get you change, but you waved him away. “Keep the change,” you said benevolently.

“T-thanks,” he mumbled, unable to tear his gaze away from you. 

“Have a good one!” you said cheerily as you shut the door in his face. 

Your expression instantly turned dour again as you turned around. You placed the pizza boxes down on the tiny table in the dining room and turned back around to lock and chain the door. 

The other Soldier sat down in one of the rickety chairs, staring at you as he flipped open the lid of the first box and grabbed a slice. You valiantly ignored his piercing stares as you ripped a piece off and devoured it greedily. If the Americans did one thing well, it was gluttony, and their pizza was no exception.

After a few slices of pizza worth of awkward silence and staring, your gaze finally snapped to him, glower creasing your brow. _“What?”_ you spat.

He shrugged and finally looked away, gazing despondently at the peeling off-white paint on the walls. _“Laid it on a bit thick, don’t you think?”_ he asked casually.

You frowned and looked him up and down. _“That’s my job, isn’t it? Charm the populace? Blend in perfectly?”_ you asked.

He shrugged. _“From what I’ve seen, being an asshole would have fit the bill just fine, too,”_ he said.

_“What? So he goes back to his coworkers and complains about me? Tells his family? His friends? No, this way I’m just a nice girl at a motel,”_ you said, tearing a chunk out of your slice of pizza with your teeth.

The Soldier rolled his eyes. _“He’s a teenage boy. He’ll tell all of his friends and coworkers that a pretty girl was nice to him today.”_

You swallowed thickly and glared at him. _“And they’ll dismiss it. **He’s a teenage boy**. They form crushes all the time. But being rude? That would upset his friends, his coworkers. We’d be on someone’s shit list. It’s better this way,”_ you argued.

He let out a sigh and held his hands up. _“Fine, whatever you say.”_

You leaned back on your seat, smug smile on your face. _“Jealous idiot,”_ you muttered under your breath.

He glanced up at you, smirk on his face. _“What was that?”_

_“Nothing,”_ you said, rolling your eyes at him. You knew he’d heard you, but you wouldn’t fall to the obvious bait. 

_“Really? Because I’m fairly certain you just called me a jealous idiot,”_ he said, taking a deliberate bite out of a new slice as he stared at you, smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

You scoffed and rolled your eyes. _“Get your hearing checked, old man.”_

He looked a little offended at this. _“I’m **not** old.” _

_“Fine, **ancient**.”_

He glared at you. _“I’m going to sleep. You take first watch.”_

You waved him away nonchalantly and kept scarfing down pizza, quite content to be left to the cheesy goodness without his company. You heard him flop down on the bed and a second later the room was plunged into darkness. Thanks to your enhanced eyes, you had no trouble seeing.

_“You better leave me at least half a pie,”_ he said dangerously. You turned to look at him over your shoulder; he was glaring at you (or, well, in your direction. His eyes couldn’t adjust as fast as yours). 

_“Go to sleep, you jealous idiot.”_

You heard him mumble something like _“I fucking knew it,”_ but chose not to say anything else.

As the two of you sat there in the darkness, a startling thought occurred to both of you.

You’d barely said a word to each other on the way here. Even on the plane where the only other person was the pilot, separated by a wall, you hadn’t said a thing. 

Something about this place- the U.S.- was doing something to you. 

And neither of you understood what it was in the least.


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The mission goes sideways when the Soviet programming begins to break down again. You and the Soldier take a chance at your freedom, but the world you’re in now is one you’re not familiar with, a fact that serves only to disorient and confuse the both of you more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: None  
> A/N: Things are in English. Other languages will be in “quotes and italics.”

[Originally posted by steves-on-a-plane](https://tmblr.co/Z5hGzh2DHJyAM)

“Go to sleep, you jealous idiot.”

_You heard him mumble something like_ “I fucking knew it,” _but chose not to say anything else._

_As the two of you sat there in the darkness, a startling thought occurred to both of you.  
_

_You’d barely said a word to each other on the way here. Even on the plane where the only other person was the pilot, separated by a wall, you hadn’t said a thing.  
_

_Something about this place- the U.S.- was doing something to you.  
_

_And neither of you understood what it was in the least.  
_

* * *

**March 12th, 1973 - California, United States**

The uncomfortable feeling only got stronger the longer you stayed in the U.S. 

The hustle and bustle of the city pricked at something in the back of your mind. There was something there, just beneath the surface, begging for release. 

But you ignored it as best you could. 

You and the Soldier blended in with the crowd perfectly. You walked hand in hand, chatting together in flawless unaccented English. Any person walking by would assume you were locals or possibly out of state tourists. No one saw the pistol shoved into the back of the Soldier’s waistband. The mission was to make his death look like an accident, so the gun was more insurance in case things went wrong than anything else. 

You tried to focus on the mission, but your surroundings just didn’t allow you to do so. A quick glance at the Soldier told you he was having the same issues.

But confronting him about it would make all those emotions real. You’d have to face them head on, too… so you valiantly ignored them and pretended everything was okay, even though you were being ripped in half inside. 

A few times you felt his stare on you, searching your face. For what, you didn’t know. He squeezed your hand gently a few times, as though experimenting. Each time he did your heart picked up its pace until finally you glowered at him and he desisted with a nonchalant shrug. 

Even the careless action tugged at your heartstrings and you resolved to look at him only if you needed to. His very presence magnified the uneasy feelings tenfold. 

It wasn’t much later that you two approached the Senator’s house. His family would be out for a while longer and according to his personal schedule, he liked to swim laps in his personal pool this hour. It would be easy to sneak in and make his murder look like an accidental drowning… so you did just that.

* * *

Senator Harry Baxtor floated face down in his pool, dead. The toxicology report would come up with a high blood alcohol content level. They’d rule it an accident, no investigation needed. Easy mission, no witnesses, all according to plan.

That was until someone called out from inside the house, their voices drifting out the back door. 

“Honey, we’re home! You’ll never guess what we found at a yard sale today! A Bucky Bear and Lady Liberty Doll! In _mint condition!_ I know you’ve been looking for them for a while!” 

You and the Soldier froze in unison, the woman’s words unleashing a torrent of emotions and flashes of memories. 

“Daaad! Come look! (Y/N) even has her pretty dress still!” a little girl yelled through the back door.

A cold hand closed around your upper arm and your gaze snapped to the Soldier, who looked as upset as you felt. “We have to go. Now,” he said urgently. 

You nodded dumbly and let him drag you from the estate. The stone wall was an easy vault for you and the Soldier hefted himself up over it with ease. Not three seconds after your feet touched the ground on the other side, a horrified scream made you freeze, both of you turning to stare over your shoulders in horror. 

You felt nauseous. You’d killed that man. You hadn’t thought twice about it. It was your mission. 

Why did it feel so wrong? You’d done what you were supposed to. The world began to spin dangerously, but a strong pair of hands clasped your shoulders before you had a complete breakdown. 

“We have to move. Now,” the Soldier hissed, staring down at you with those pretty light blue eyes. You managed to focus. For some reason, it was made easier just by looking at him, almost as though your world revolved around him. You nodded slowly and he gave you one last conflicted look before he took your hand. 

And then you and the Soldier ran.

* * *

There were no news reports about the two of you. No wanted posters. No mugshots in the newspapers. 

The Soviets would never search for the two of you so openly… but that didn’t mean they weren’t.

No, you were sure they had every sleeper agent in the states looking for the two of you. 

But you and the Soldier weren’t the best trained assassins and spies in Soviet history for no reason. 

You didn’t go back to the hotel. You didn’t need to. All of your money was on you and the only things left there were weapons and a few changes of clothes. It was too risky, anyway. The Soviets might be waiting to extract you, and there was one thing you were sure of:

You didn’t want to go back to them.

“Where do we go?” you asked, glancing up at the Soldier out of the corner of your eye. 

He stared at you for a second, retreating into himself as he deliberated. “New York.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Why New York?” 

He glanced away and shrugged. “Just feels right.” 

You gazed down at where your hands were connected, fingers laced together carefully. “Yeah, it does.”

* * *

You found the nearest bus station and walked up to the counter, trying not to let your eyes widen at the prices. “So expensive…” you whispered. Next to you the Soldier merely nodded. You paid the tired-looking woman at the counter for two tickets on the next bus east. You needed to get out of town and the bus to Dallas was leaving in fifteen minutes, so you took it.

You and the Soldier hopped on the bus and headed straight to the back, gazes downcast. He wasn’t exactly small and his scruffy appearance drew some attention, but once they spotted you next to him they seemed to relax a hair. He went from a scary stranger to a gentle giant with a girlfriend in an instant. Passengers filed on one by one and you and the Soldier searched each for any ill intent. By the time the last person sat down neither of you were convinced anyone on the bus posed any danger to you. They hadn’t found you yet. 

He leaned down and whispered in your ear, “Get some sleep.” His breath ghosted across your ear and you had to fight back a shiver. 

“What about you?” you whispered, searching his face worriedly. 

He smiled at you and you felt your cheeks heat. “I got a lot of sleep last night because someone didn’t wake me up,” he said, giving your hand a gentle squeeze.

You tried to calm your racing heart. “Are you sure?” 

He merely nodded and smiled down at you with such naked affection that your heart nearly beat out of your chest. You ducked your head, gaze glued to the floor. In a fit of bravery you rested your head against his shoulder and closed your eyes. You couldn’t see, but he positively beamed as he gazed down at you.

* * *

“Wake up, baby,” came a gentle voice in your ear. You were awake instantly. You froze, taking in your surroundings in an instant. Where were you? Why were you on a bus? Why were these people dressed so weirdly? 

You glanced to your left and let out a sigh of relief. “What’s going on, Buck?” you whispered in confusion.

He only stared at you, though, brows knit together as he studied you worriedly. 

It took you a moment to realize why. 

What had you just called the Soldier? 

And why did it feel so right?

You blinked once, twice, and to your dismay your brain didn’t clear up at all. “Sorry, I- I don’t know why…” you said, voice trailing off as you tried to get a grasp on your thoughts, which were going a hundred different ways at once. The moment you started to get a hold on them they vanished like smoke, and you had to begin the whole process over again. 

A hand came up and cupped your cheek slowly, drawing you out of your own head. “It’s alright… we’ll be in Dallas soon. Are you ready to move?” he asked, voice soothing and low, as though he was talking to a frightened animal. 

You focused on the sound of his voice, which had a grounding effect, and nodded. He ran his thumb lightly over your cheek and you leaned into the touch, earning a soft smile from him. 

“Alright, everyone! We’ve arrived at the Dallas station. Don’t forget to check under seats for your belongings. Thank you for riding with Greyhound, and welcome to Dallas, Texas! Have a lovely evening!” the bus driver said chipperly. You glanced up at the Soldier and took his hand in yours. You didn’t recognize anything. Everything was different… but you had him, and somehow that thought gave you the strength to continue.

It was late, and buses were done running for the night, so you and the Soldier were left to find somewhere to sleep until the morning. You’d get a bus to Chicago and from there you’d take the train to New York. You weren’t really sure what you’d do once you got there, but that was a problem for a later time.

You pulled out the cash that constituted your quickly dwindling funds with a grimace. “I don’t know if we can afford a hotel or even a motel… everything is so expensive…” you said, looking up at him guiltily, as though inflation was somehow your fault.

He shook his head. “Don’t need one. We’ll find a quiet spot and catch a few winks. We’re only going to be here a few hours,” he said, giving you a small smile.

You shoved the money back into your pocket and stared at the ground, fidgeting nervously. You should just ask; get it over with-

“What is it?” he asked quietly, ducking down so he could get a peek at your face. 

Your gaze snapped up to him and you gaped, unsure of how to proceed. He’d read you like a book just now.

He brushed your hair from your face, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “Just say it. I know that look.” 

“Are you tired?” you asked before you could stop yourself. 

He raised an eyebrow but shook his head. 

You fidgeted with the hem of your shirt and chewed on your lip, taking a moment to gather your courage. Finally, you took a deep breath and looked up at him. “I know it’s late and nothing’s probably open, but… I don’t recognize anything. The clothing, the slang, everything’s unfamiliar. The buildings are huge. The cars are different. I don’t even know what I’m comparing it all to. My head’s a mess. I can’t think straight. I don’t even know what year it is, but… but I want to understand as much as I can. I was wondering if… if you’d explore with me, just a bit,” you said, glancing up at him hopefully through your eyelashes. “I don’t feel safe… going by myself,” you added shyly, cheeks heating at the admission. 

A melancholy smile worked its way onto his lips as he gazed down at you. He held his right hand out and you looked up at him, surprised. He glanced between you and his outstretched hand expectantly and, after a moment, you took it tentatively. His warm fingers wrapped securely around yours and, just like that, the two of you began exploring the town in the dead of night. 

[Originally posted by lovelynemesis](https://tmblr.co/ZVOuzi2P8Zkv9)

* * *

You eventually found your way to the top of an older apartment building. The residents inside were mostly asleep, though you heard a TV going and a couple arguing at one point while climbing up the fire escape in the alley between the buildings. At this hour, the world was almost completely silent. The roof was sparsely decorated. A few disused clotheslines hung about, floating over a couple rickety wooden chairs and ventilation machinery for the building. You made it to the top ahead of the Soldier and quietly tiptoed over to one of the benches shoved up against the wall. You flopped down onto it on your back so that you were able to take in the vast, star-lit sky. A face appeared in your line of vision a moment later and you turned your head to stare at the Soldier, who was staring at you with an amused expression, single eyebrow raised. 

“Feel like scooting over so I can sit?” he asked quietly, nudging your knee with his. 

You shook your head and stuck your tongue out at him. 

He chuckled, the sound warming your body and soul. You remembered the Soldier, but anything beyond that was fuzzy… yet you had a feeling he was more to you than that. 

“Sit up,” he said motioning for to move with his hand. When you only glared petulantly he sighed. “Trust me, please.” 

You stared at him a moment longer before you acquiesced, sitting up smoothly. You watched him expectantly as he sat down at the far end of the bench. Your eyes widened when he turned to look at you and patted his lap. 

Your brows knit together in confusion and you glanced between his lap and his face as you tried to figure out what he was playing at. 

He rolled his eyes. “You want to watch the stars, right? Lay down,” he said, as though that was the most obvious thing in the world. He even patted his thigh again.

But it wasn’t obvious. Not at all. You were _still_ having trouble wrapping your head around it. 

You turned your back on him and ever so slowly lowered yourself back down until your head hit his solid, warm thigh. You tilted your head back a tiny bit so you could glimpse him, only to quickly look away when you saw him staring down at you, small smile on his face. His shoulder and chest took up a pretty significant portion of your vision, but you found you didn’t care that much. When he lifted his hand and soothed his thumb over your hairline, tension you hadn’t realized had been in your body suddenly relaxed and you let out a long, content sigh. 

The two of you sat like that for a long time, both of you thinking, neither of you speaking. 

Finally, you had to speak up. You had to tell him the truth. “I don’t remember you,” you whispered. 

His hand froze on your hair, his entire body tensing for an instant before relaxing again, although not as much as before. When he didn’t move or speak for a minute, you chanced a glance up at him. 

Just as you did, a tear fell from his cheek and landed on your forehead. You stared up at him, wide-eyed, unsure of what to do. You wanted to comfort him, but you had no idea how.

“I don’t-” he paused and took a moment to collect himself, even as more tears spilled over his eyes. “I don’t remember you, either,” he whispered, distraught. 

You wee upright with your arms around him in the blink of an eye. Tears flowed freely down your cheeks and you buried your face in his neck.

_I don’t know you, but you smell like home._

_I don’t know you, but I fit perfectly against you._

_I don’t know you, but the sound of your voice sets me at ease._

_I don’t know you, but your touch is so familiar._

_I don’t know you, but my fingers know every inch of your body like it was my own.  
_

_I don’t know you, but I love you._

You didn’t know you’d said the last part aloud until he stopped breathing for a beat or two. “I love you, too. I love you so damn much,” he whispered, voice cracking as he clutched you to his chest.

“I’m sorry,” you whimpered, fat tears rolling down your cheeks to soak his shirt. “I’m so sorry I can’t remember.”

He hushed you gently as he rocked you in his arms. “It’s alright, sweetheart. It’s alright. We’re gonna be alright,” he cooed. You could tell from his tone he needed to believe his own words. You squeezed him gently and he squeezed back. The two of you sat like that for a while until you’d both finally calmed down enough that the tears stopped. You sniffled and finally leaned back so you could look at him. His eyes were red and he avoided your gaze, obviously embarrassed. You gently wiped away a stray tear with your thumb and smiled at him. 

“You should sleep. You’ve been up for hours,” you said softly. 

He finally chanced a glance at your face and he couldn’t help but stop and stare. You were so beautiful. So beautiful his heart ached. He wanted to remember you so badly. “I will on one condition,” he whispered hoarsely.

You tilted your head to the side, small frown tugging at the corner of your lips. “And what’s that?”

He took a deep breath. Here went nothing. “You kiss me first.”

You hadn’t been expecting that. You searched his face for any duplicitous intentions and, finding none, nodded after a moment. He let out a tiny relieved sigh and you felt him relax beneath you, only to tense up again when you leaned forward, slowly closing the gap between you. His breath hitched the second before your lips met his and the moment you made contact you turned to goo in his lap. His arms snaked around your waist and you buried your fingers in his hair. He had no right to taste as good as he did, but you couldn’t get enough. 

Eventually, though, you had to come up for air. You broke apart, panting, staring at the man under you with something akin to awe. Your feelings were reflected perfectly in his eyes and you couldn’t help but smile at him. You leaned forward and placed a chaste kiss to his lips, smiling when he followed you forward a bit when you pulled away. 

“Go to sleep, love. We’ll need to leave soon for the bus depot,” you said quietly. 

He nodded. “Can… can I use your lap as a pillow?” he asked hesitantly. It was clear he thought he was overstepping his bounds. 

You simply smiled at him and moved off his lap, moving to sit on the other side of the bench. Mimicking his earlier actions, you patted your lap gently. His smile was so tender your hearth physically ached. He laid down slowly, his head eventually coming to rest on your lap. You ran your fingers gently through his long dark brown hair and he relaxed into the touch. “Goodnight,” you whispered, fondness creeping into your voice. 

His only response was placing a gentle kiss to the top of your thigh before he fell asleep, his soft snores comforting you beyond words.

 


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Freedom. The very concept is foreign to you and the other Winter Soldier. However, your skills haven’t evaporated with the advent of free will. So you and he hide, slowly making your way towards New York where you feel inexplicably drawn. The two of you are stuck in Chicago until your bus arrives, but you try to make the most of it.  
> 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Swearing (always), Groovy 70′s slang  
> A/N: Things are in English. Other languages will be in “quotes and italics.” Sorry for the delay.

_You simply smiled at him and moved off his lap, moving to sit on the other side of the bench. Mimicking his earlier actions, you patted your lap gently. His smile was so tender your hearth physically ached. He laid down slowly, his head eventually coming to rest on your lap. You ran your fingers gently through his long dark brown hair and he relaxed into the touch. “Goodnight,” you whispered, fondness creeping into your voice.  
_

_His only response was placing a gentle kiss to the top of your thigh before he fell asleep, his soft snores comforting you beyond words._

* * *

**Dallas, TX - United States - March 15th, 1973**

By the time you were boarding the bus to Chicago, Dallas was barely waking up. Only supremely unfortunate people with places to be at 5 am were out and about, and they were so tired that they didn’t spare you or the Soldier a single glance. 

You’d gotten lucky and found a gas station with a well-stocked store and managed to snag yourselves a change of clothes. You threw your previous outfits in the garbage, keeping only your gloves and boots to hide your cybernetic appendages. You had no idea if what you were wearing was hideous or not by today’s standards, but it definitely was to your own eyes. Floral patterns everywhere and too-tight pants that flared outrageously at the bottom. 

By the time you’d trudged bitterly out of the bathroom, the Soldier was leaning against the wall waiting for you, cigarette stuck firmly between his lips. He glanced up as you exited and you couldn’t help but glance away in embarrassment. Of course he managed to look good in this era’s clothing. He’d probably look good in anything. You walked up to him, eyes glued to the ground. If he took notice of your odd behavior, he didn’t say anything. 

“Ready to go?” he asked quietly, blowing smoke away from the two of you. 

You plucked the cigarette from between his lips and took a long drag, handing it back to him before you exhaled slowly and turned towards the door, grabbing his hand as you went.

He trailed after you, seemingly content to be tugged along, smirk dancing on the corner of his lips.

* * *

The trip to Chicago was grueling. You knew it would be a long journey, but over a day’s travel was a bit much. You hadn’t brought anything to do, so much of your trip was spent sleeping, staring out the window, or talking to the Soldier. 

“When we get to Chicago, we’re bathing. I don’t care how we get to that point, but I can’t take this anymore,” you muttered around fifteen hours into the journey. Most people were asleep by now, but the roar of the bus down the freeway was still enough to drown out your words.

He gave his shirt an experimental whiff and cringed. “Agreed.” 

You sat together in silence for a few minutes before you turned your head to look up at him. He glanced down at you, then fully turned to look at you when he realized you hadn’t looked away. “What?” he asked, raising a single eyebrow at you.

You chewed on your lip nervously. “Have you… remembered anything?” you asked hesitantly. 

He blew out a long sigh and let his head fall back on the headrest of his chair. “You mean… from before…?” he held his left arm up questioningly.

You nodded quickly and he frowned. “I dunno… can’t decide if something’s real or a dream,” he muttered, glancing at you apologetically.

“Tell me, please,” you whispered, taking his hands between yours. 

He couldn’t meet your gaze. “Why? It’s all a jumbled mess, Sugar… don’t see what good it’ll do, drudgin’ it all up.”

You squeezed his hands tightly in yours and tried to get him to look at you. “Well, if I remember it, too… then it’s probably real, right?” you asked, smiling when he finally glanced up at you, still hesitant. “Please?” you added, looking at him hopefully.

When a small half-smile tugged at the corner of his lips, you knew you’d won him over. “Fine, but you hafta share somethin’ too, alright?” he asked.

You nodded eagerly. “Deal.” 

“And we write everything we remember down if we both agree it probably happened,” he added, making you raise an eyebrow. 

“On what? Neither of us have any paper, or even a pen,” you asked staring up at him in confusion. Your expression quickly changed to disbelieving offense when he pulled a tiny notebook out of his pocket, closely followed by a pen. “You had that this whole time and didn’t share? We could have played games. Hangman, tic-tac-toe, anything!” you whisper hissed, making a grab for the notebook which he easily dodged.

He let out a short chuckle. “Yeah, but I like talking to you… and we both needed some sleep,” he said, gazing down at you tenderly

You gaped openly at him before he gave you an amused look that had you snapping your jaw shut and glaring at him half-heartedly. “Fine… you first,” you grumbled, pulling your feet up. You threw them over his closest leg to you and leaned in, resting your head against against his right shoulder. 

He smiled down at you before looking away, thinking. You let him be, knowing full well what a mess his head was at the moment. 

“Real or fake, I taught you how to box?” he asked finally, glancing down at you. 

You smiled up at him. “Sounds right. Feels good. Going to go with real.”

He chuckled and quickly scribbled it down. “What a vote of confidence…” he muttered, smirk dancing on his lips. 

“Not sure of anything right now, sweetheart,” you said with a sad smile which he returned in kind. 

“Your turn,” he said, staring down at you expectantly. 

“Hmm…” you racked your brain, trying to find a concrete idea or recollection that might be real. “Real or fake, we built a motorcycle together?” you asked, fingers twitching as though you could feel the tools in your hands. It seemed so real, but the memory slipped through your hands like water as soon as you tried to recall it in detail.

The tenderness in his eyes made you take a deep breath, smile on your face. “Real,” he said, staring at you for a moment more before he moved to write it down, pen scribbling across the tiny pages. The notebook was barely a few inches across and only slightly taller than it was wide. It looked especially small in his big hands. 

He stuck the pen between his lips as he thought and you couldn’t help but smile at the odd behavior. He finally pulled it out and stared at you with those light blue eyes and took a deep breath. “Real or fake, I married you in a bombed-out town hall?” he asked, still as a statue as he studied you.

His words brought forth a myriad of images; him in a military uniform looking much happier and well-kept, a bunch of men you couldn’t remember the names of, a simple cake, a small bouquet, simple, engraved gold bands. You snapped out of your daze and stared down at your left hand, where you could nearly see that simple wedding band in your mind’s eye. Your finger suddenly felt naked without it. “Real,” you breathed, happy tears clouding your eyes. 

He smiled at you and let out a single choked sob of happiness before his lips descended upon yours. 

* * *

**Chicago, IL - United States - March 16th, 1973**

It took a little while for the two of you to get back on track after that, but by the time you were finished you’d agreed on quite a few other things:

  * You knew a man named Steve.
  * You fought in World War II.
  * You were Americans.
  * He was a sniper.
  * You were an engineer.
  * You and Steve worked with a group of other men in the war, though neither of you could remember their names.
  * You were close with a beautiful brunette woman, though her name eluded both of you. Something with a “P,” you were pretty sure.
  * You’d gone on a date in France.
  * You’d saved each other’s lives more than once.
  * He hates sweet pickles.
  * You’d met in a Hydra facility.



The memories were random and scattered, but it was progress. By the time bus rolled into Chicago at 1 pm, the tiny notebook was half full. There were plenty of things from earlier in your lives that you couldn’t verify for each other. Those weren’t written down; false memories would only confuse you more. 

The first thing you and the Soldier did when you hopped off the bus was buy two tickets for New York. It was still early in the day and, even with the wind blowing through the busy streets, it was warm. 

“We have a few hours, Doll. What do you wanna do?” The Soldier asked. 

“Hmm…” you hummed as you glanced around. Sitting around at a bus depot for hours would be a terrible idea. Even though you’d made it most of the way across the country, you were sure Russian agents around the world would be on the lookout for the two of you at any major transportation hub. You wouldn’t be surprised if Hydra had joined in the search by now. The weasels definitely had spies in Russian intelligence. “Wanna go for a walk?” you asked, staring up at him with a smile as you wove your fingers together with his. “We can search for a motel nearby while we explore.” 

He glanced around surreptitiously. “Sure that’s a good idea? It’s broad daylight out,” he said, worry obvious in his tone. He didn’t like being out in the open any more than you. 

“We’re hiding in plain sight, sweetheart. We’re barely even recognizable,” he said comfortingly. 

You sighed and nodded, knowing he was right. “How about that shower?” you asked, to which he nodded eagerly. 

* * *

Nearly all of the money you had left was spent on a motel room and dinner- a deep dish pizza at a nearby restaurant that you and the soldier devoured with impressive speed. The moment you were both finished showering (which took extra time because you may or may not have had sex a few times) you left the motel, not wanting to stay in the tiny cramped room a moment longer than you had to. You sat at the back of the restaurant (at a table that gave you clear view of all the entrances and exits), picking up tidbits of other patron’s conversations as you ate. The era had such odd slang and you found yourself smiling ruefully once or twice when a particularly exuberant group of young people came in and sat down only a table or two away, chattering away happily.

The Soldier glanced up at you, pausing at the expression on your face. “What?” he asked curiously, eyebrow raised.

You had to fight back a grin. “The good vibes in this place are groovy.” The Soldier groaned and buried his face in his hands, which only made you smile wider. “What’s got you bent, cool cat?” you asked playfully, earning another pained groan from the Soldier. 

“Please stop,” he begged, voice muffled by his hands. 

“Why are you raggin’ on me, man? I’m shagadelic,” you said, shit-eating grin plastered on your face.

He let out a truly undignified snort and finally looked up at you, lopsided smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “That has to be the worst sentence I’ve ever heard.”

You shrugged and grinned at him. It was such a strange sensation, smiling. You could tell from how weird it felt that you hadn’t done it recently, and you were sure you couldn’t remember the Soldier smiling that broadly before. Up until a few days ago, the most you got was the softening of his eyes whenever he looked at you.

“C’mon, hep cat. Let’s blow this taco stand,” you said, wiping your mouth with your napkin and throwing it onto the table as you stood. He let out a low exhale of a laugh and you couldn’t help but smile at him as you extended your hand. He tossed a few bills on the table before taking your hand in his. 

The two of you headed for the door, but not before practically dissolving into giggles at the comments of the people nearby. They had no idea you and the Soldier could hear them loud and clear, so their hushed, urgent whispers of “look at that hip couple, man,” “That dude is the bomb. Looks like a total Casanova,” and “That chick is foxy. Wonder where she got her outfit,” followed you out of the restaurant. 

You turned to the Soldier the moment you stepped through the door, eager to use your newfound slang, but he immediately turned and glared half-heartedly at you. “Don’t. Please, for the love of god, just don’t,” he pleaded. 

“Fine, fine,” you said good-naturedly with a smile, giving his left hand a gentle squeeze. The feedback receptors would let him feel the pressure, but you knew the warmth of your hand escaped him.

He let out a sigh of relief and immediately resumed scanning the area as you made your way down the busy Chicago street, content with the companionable silence between you.

But it wasn’t to last.

“Let’s peace out to our pad and hang for the night, can ya dig it?”

Your only response was an exasperated sigh.

* * *

As it turned out, you didn’t end up in a hotel, motel, vacant house, or on a comfy park bench. In fact, all plans of sleep vanished for the night the moment you spotted the lights of a club while wandering the streets of downtown. 

You turned to stare intently at the Soldier, who immediately flinched, likely reading your train of thought in an instant. “No.”

“C’mon, don’t have a cow, man! Let’s go get our boogie on!” you said, interest only growing the closer you got to the club. The funky music seeped through the walls and out the front door and you had to admit it was catchy. 

The Soldier rolled his eyes. “No. We need to find a place to stay for the night,” he argued, valiantly trying to tug you down the street. “We shouldn’t even be out right now.”

You frowned and dug your heels in, effectively pulling the two of you to a stop. You dropped the 70′s slang for a second so he knew you were being serious. “There’ll be so many people in there that no one will notice two more. We’ll blend right into the crowd! Besides…” you lowered your voice and leaned in closer to him. “We’re low on funds. It’ll be easy to sneak a few dollars here and there from drunk party goers.” 

He frowned, considering your words. “Don’t know how I feel about stealing, Doll…” he muttered.

You rolled your eyes. “Well do you plan on getting a job right now? Because I think we might be a little out of luck in that department.”

He sighed, shoulders slumping, and you knew you’d won. “Alright, fine. But if the place starts clearin’ out, we’re outta there. We’re not getting caught because you wanted to dance.”

You positively beamed at him as you dragged him towards the door. The bouncer didn’t even ask for your ID and you and the Soldier entered the club, both of you freezing for a moment once you got inside.

[Originally posted by giantmonster](https://tmblr.co/ZMaMHx2JNQPci)

The place was loud in every meaning of the word. People gyrated to the music everywhere. A huge shimmering ball hung in the center of the room, reflecting all of the numerous lights hung from the ceiling. There was also a faint smoke in the air which smelled distinctly… skunk-y? It was nearly too much for your sensitive eyes at first, but you quickly adjusted to the chaos, a wide smile adorning your face when you spotted the huge light up dance floor in one corner of the room. 

The Soldier looked around, aghast. “What have I gotten myself into…”

You looked over at him, soft smile on your face. You gave his hand a gentle squeeze and he looked down at you, though his gaze darted away once or twice when he caught a sudden movement behind you. “We may not be able to recall old memories… but I sure as hell want to make some new ones with you.”

He finally relaxed a hair at your words and, in the blink of an eye, pulled you in for a passionate kiss. You ignored the wolf whistles and catcalls and kissed him back just as fiercely. He broke the kiss with a smile on his face. “Let’s go make some new memories, Dollface.” 

You grinned wickedly back at him. “Right on.”


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finally on the way to New York, you and the Soldier simply enjoy each other’s company. You arrive in the Big Apple, but are immediately at a loss of what to do next.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Swearing (always), mentions of sex  
> A/N: Things are in English. Other languages will be in “quotes and italics.” Sorry for the delay.

_The Soldier looked around, aghast. “What have I gotten myself into…?”_

_You looked over at him, soft smile on your face. You gave his hand a gentle squeeze and he looked down at you, though his gaze darted away once or twice when he caught a sudden movement behind you. “We may not be able to recall old memories… but I sure as hell want to make some new ones with you.”_

_He finally relaxed a hair at your words and, in the blink of an eye, pulled you in for a passionate kiss. You ignored the wolf whistles and catcalls and kissed him back just as fiercely. He broke the kiss with a smile on his face. “Let’s go make some new memories, Dollface.”  
_

_You grinned wickedly back at him. “Right on.”_

* * *

You and the Soldier stayed at the club for hours, dancing the night away into the wee hours of the morning. He was skeptical about “disco” at first, but by the end of his time there he seemed to dance it better than nearly every other person in the club, including you. In your defense, you were literally not very light on your feet. He teased you a lot about how you could run a mile in three minutes, but barely managed to master the “bus stop.” For his teasing you bumped to nearly the other side of the room with your hip. He returned only a moment later, grinning ear to ear and continued to taunt you with his nearly flawless dance moves. You grit your teeth and focused, a victorious smile on your face when you managed to match him move for move for an entire song. 

But not too much later the lights of the club came on and the music stopped. You blinked blearily against the lights until your eyes adjusted. The owner informed you it was closing time and you and the Soldier regretfully made your ways towards the door, waving goodbye to a few acquaintances you’d made during your dance-filled escapade.

He linked arms with you as you walked through the street and you smiled up at him lovingly for a moment before you returned to scanning the area for threats. “I take it back,” he said quietly into the quiet, still night. 

“Mm?” you hummed, not taking your eyes off all the dark nooks and crannies of the streets. 

“That _was_ fun. A good place to hide, too,” he admitted, smiling as he placed a light kiss to the side of your head. 

You couldn’t help but look at him, practically beaming. “I had fun, too. I wonder if New York will have something like that. I hope it does,” you said, standing on your toes to place a quick kiss to his lips.

The Soldier smiled and turned to face forward, obviously pleased by your actions. “I’m sure they will. It’s New York, after all.”

You let out a short chuckle, though you knew he was probably correct. “Bus leaves in three hours. Wanna catch a few winks before then?” you asked.

“No, I have something else in mind.” 

You weren’t looking at his face, but his voice had dropped an octave and that alone sent a shiver of anticipation down your spine. You looked up at him, swallowing thickly at the look on his face. “And that would be…?” you asked, though you were fairly sure you already knew the answer. 

The smirk on his face was devilish and left little to the imagination. “A surprise.”

[Originally posted by ghostwritingforyou](https://tmblr.co/ZXlCrg27yF5EF)

* * *

You absently watched the scenery speed by through the window of the bus, your inevitable drift into unconsciousness hindered only by the sore feeling permeating your entire body. For once, it was a good sore. The kind gained from long hours of lovemaking. You shifted in your seat in an attempt to get comfortable, only to wince and return to your previous position with a hiss when you hit a particularly sore spot. The Soldier looked down at you instantly, worry etched into his pretty face as he looked you up and down for any sign of injury. You smiled at his fussing and brought his hand to your lips, placing a gentle kiss on his knuckles. The touch was enough to reassure him that you were alright and he sank back into his chair, his posture returning to something resembling relaxation. You stared at him for a moment or two more, eyes crinkling with the smile lighting up your entire face. 

“I love you,” you murmured sleepily. 

He looked down at you, smile dancing at the corner of his lips. “I love you too… Foxy Mama,” he said, waggling his eyebrows playfully at you. 

You snorted and shoved him lightly in the shoulder. “Alright, alright. I get it. I’ll cut back on the slang. Just please never say that again.” 

He chuckled and pulled you easily into his lap. “Deal. Now get some sleep, Dollface,” he whispered in your ear. 

You smiled and buried your face in his neck, immediately relaxing as his scent filled your nostrils. “G’night, Baby,” you breathed, almost immediately falling asleep in his strong arms.

The last thing you heard before sleep took you was a whispered “Good night, Doll.”

* * *

When you woke up some hours later it was finally bright outside and you winced as the sun hit your face, nearly blinding you for a moment. 

“Hey beautiful, good morning,” rumbled a voice in your ear. 

You tilted your head, peering up into those bright blue eyes. “Whu timezzit?” you mumbled, stretching and yawning loudly, nearly tipping out of his lap as you did so. He pulled you firmly to his chest and you smiled thankfully. You placed a light kiss to his cheek, his scruff tickling you.

“Just after eleven o’clock. Mind if I sleep for a bit, Sweetheart?” he asked tiredly. 

“Of course!” you said with a smile. You moved to clamber off of him, but he held fast to you, not letting you move an inch. You looked back at him questioningly but he simply leaned forward and placed a feather-light kiss to your shoulder. 

“Stay, please. I sleep better with you in my arms. Don’t get the nightmares,” he murmured, looking up at you with those piercing blue eyes. 

Your heart nearly melted in your chest and you nodded quickly. “Whatever you want,” you whispered, reaching up to tuck a strand of his long chocolate hair behind his ear. He smiled and leaned back, pulling you with him. He placed his head to your back and in nearly no time at all his breathing evened out as he quickly traveled to dreamland. 

You laced your fingers with his right hand, smiling when he squeezed you gently, even in his sleep. You looked up and watched the bus, resolving yourself to a few hours of quiet people-watching. 

* * *

When the city finally rolled into view, you couldn’t help but wake the Soldier up. You turned in his lap and shook his shoulder gently. He awoke with a start but instantly relaxed when you shushed him and told him everything was alright. He glanced out the window, doing a double take when he laid eyes on the city just a mile or so away. The lights of tall buildings twinkled in the dusky sky like gleaming jewels in the darkness.

You watched in amusement as he seemed completely unable to tear his eyes away, drinking in the sight before him. Finally, after what felt like a small eternity, he turned to look at you, dazed. 

“It’s different,” he said, obviously unsure. 

You smiled sadly and nodded. “I thought so, too, but…”

He mirrored your smile. “It still feels right.”

You smiled earnestly and nodded, turning your attention back to the city. “Yeah, it does.”

* * *

When the bus pulled into the station you and the Soldier waited patiently as the people in front of you disembarked (the downside of sitting in the very back), though both of you positively vibrated with excitement. Finally the way in front of you was clear enough to shuffle out of the bus and you stopped so suddenly once you stepped off that the Soldier nearly ran into you. 

He glanced down at you then around, scrutinizing his surroundings. “C’mon, Doll. We shouldn’t linger,” he whispered. Snapping out of your daze, you glanced behind you, his steady gaze calming your racing mind. You nodded and took his hand in yours and made a hasty beeline away from the bus depot. 

“Where we goin’?” the Soldier asked quietly, tugging you to a more reasonable speed. 

You shrugged. “Dunno. East, I guess?” you muttered, searching the streets for anything familiar.

The Soldier wrinkled his nose. “Isn’t Queens east?” 

You turned to look at him, frown tugging at the corners of your lips. “I think so. Is that a problem?” 

He began pulling you in a different direction. “We’re not goin’ to Queens.”

You yanked him to a stop, confusion lining your features. “Why not?” you challenged, trying your best to keep your voice down.

“We should go south. Brooklyn,” he said, glancing around to see if your little argument had drawn any attention. When all he saw was a few annoyed pedestrians, he turned his full attention back to you.

You stared at him for a moment, thinking. “We’re drawn to those places.”

He frowned and seemed to recede into himself for a second as he assessed his emotions. Finally, he saw the truth in your statement. “But we don’t know why.”

“No… but the Russians might. They could very well be focusing their manhunt in those parts of the city. New York is big; they’d take any opportunity they could to consolidate their search radius.” 

The Soldier nodded along. “We can’t go there, then. At least not until we’re better disguised and have more intel on their operations in the area. Hydra’s, too.”

You sighed and nodded. “That’s probably for the best. So…?” you glanced around, not spotting a single familiar sight. 

“Manhattan it is.”

* * *

You blinked taking in the absolutely ghastly wallpaper and hideous fabric couches, clutching at the tea cup in your hand. Beside you, the Soldier looked even more out of place, his bulk taking up a sizeable amount of the tiny apartment. You weren’t entirely sure how you’d ended up in this old woman’s home, but you and Bucky just couldn’t seem to say no to her.

As though summoned by your thoughts, the old woman- Mary- appeared in the doorway of the tiny kitchen, tray of warm baked goods in her hands. 

“I made scones, dearies. Would you like some?” 

You glanced at the Soldier, who looked just as lost as you. It seemed this sudden turn of events had stunned him, too. Who knew helping some random old lady struggling with her groceries would turn into this? After a brief delay you nodded. The woman smiled and bustled over, placing the heavy-laden tray precariously on the pile of papers on the rickety coffee table. 

To your dismay, she sat down across from you in the appalling lumpy little arm chair, giving you and the Soldier a bright smile as you tentatively bit into the scones. 

Damn, they were good. You couldn’t remember the last time you’d eaten home-cooked food, so you tore through the first one faster than you’d meant to. You sincerely hoped there wasn’t any poison in them. 

“So what brings two lovebirds like you to New York?” she asked conversationally, sipping on her own tea.

You and the Soldier froze, glancing at each other surreptitiously before you quickly tried to act normal. “Just wanted to go for as long as we can remember,” you said finally, giving the woman a bracing smile. 

She tittered happily. “Oh, I don’t blame you. Best city in the world, New York! Everything you could ever need and more.”

The Soldier nodded along happily, though his smile was tight. Fake, then. “We’re really excited to finally be here. But it’s getting late, and we really shouldn’t bother you any more than we already have,” he said kindly, motioning to the tea and scones. 

Mary scoffed. “You’re not bothering me, you silly geese! You were nice enough to stop and help a little old lady with her groceries. You don’t find kindness like that any day anymore!” she said with a smile. 

You glanced at the Soldier, who shrugged helplessly. This little old woman had no idea what kind of danger she’d invited into her home. If not you and the Soldier, then the people after you. It would be best if you moved on as soon as possible-

“So, do you have a place to stay yet? Friends? Family? A hotel, even?” 

You opened your mouth to tell her the truth- that you didn’t- but the Soldier spoke before you could. “Yeah, we’re staying with a friend of ours, actually.”

Mary clucked her tongue in disappointment. “I suppose I shouldn’t keep you, then. You can take some scones with you, if you want, as a thank you… I never did catch your names,” she said, brow furrowing as the spoke.

You gulped guiltily. What _were_ your names? You couldn’t tell her the truth even if you wanted to. 

“My name’s Steve. This is Margaret,” the Soldier said with an easy smile. You shot him a grateful look and he merely took your hand in his, rubbing comforting circles over the back of your hand. 

“Well Steve, Margaret. Thank you so much. You made my evening quite lovely. I don’t often have guests to entertain,” Mary said, hint of sadness tingeing her voice. You stared at the Soldier and could tell he was having similar thoughts to yours. What could another hour here with this harmless old woman hurt? After all, you’d never see her again. 

He glanced at you and you nodded. He turned back to Mary, a small smile on his face. “Well, we’re not in any rush. We’ll be in town a while. Would you like some help making dinner?” 

Mary beamed at the Soldier. “That would be absolutely lovely, Steve.” 

The Soldier winked at Mary, throwing you a mischievous look. “Just don’t let my girl cook. She’ll burn your apartment down.” 

“Hey!” you said, a little offended. You weren’t _that_ bad a cook… right? 

Mary chuckled happily at your playful jabs. “We better get to work, then. How does baked chicken sound? Side of green beans? Maybe a simple pound cake for dessert?” 

Your stomach rumbled at the thought, effectively answering her question for you. The Soldier looked at you, amused smile dancing on his lips. “What she said,” he joked easily. You rolled his eyes, but couldn’t help smiling at him. 

Mary laughed as she stood. “Oh, you two are a hoot.” The Soldier followed her dutifully into the kitchen, still looking comically out of pace among all the doilies and vomit-inducing floral patterns. 

You sighed and leaned back into the couch, eyeing your surroundings. Even while relaxed, your mind searched for any and all paths of escape and possible weapons. However, the papers piled on the coffee table caught your eye. You leaned forward, carefully prying them out from under the heavy scone tray, grabbing a scone before you leaned back, quickly scanning the top sheet.

Legal documents. Financial. 

Mary was in financial trouble. Apparently the bank and her landlord were trying to kick her out of her rent-controlled home. You frowned and shoved the scone in your mouth, most of it still hanging from your lips. You grabbed a pen from the table beside you, and began working away at the numbers on the page. A flickering concern for Mary’s privacy flashed in your mind, but you had a new problem to work on, trivial as it was. The feeling of solving something brought old feelings bubbling to the surface, and the worry for Mary’s privacy vanished. You were working so intently that you didn’t notice, at first, when the Soldier called out to you. 

“Doll. Sweetheart. Margarent. _Dollface_ ,” he said, tapping you on the shoulder. Your head whipped around to face him and he fought back a laugh; you still had a scone sticking out of your mouth. 

Your eyes widened and you hastily bit a piece off the scone before setting it down. You glanced around, taking in all of the papers scattered across the table and couch. Apparently you’d gotten a bit _too_ into it. 

“What are you doin’, Doll?” he asked eyeing the papers with a raised eyebrow. 

“I, uh… I guess I got lost in the work. Mary’s having some financial trouble. I just… started working and lost track of time,” you muttered, hastily gathering up the papers before shoving them into a nearby manila folder. 

The Soldier smiled at you. “You always did get lost in your work.” 

Both you and the Soldier froze the moment his words registered. “What?” you breathed, staring up at him, your eyes searching his. 

He looked just as surprised as you, mouth opening and closing a few times before words actually came out. “I… I don’t know. It just…” he trailed off, brows knitted together as he stared at the floor.

“Steve? Margaret?” Mary said from the doorway, drawing both your and the Soldier’s attention. “Everything’s ready and the table’s set, if you’re ready to eat” she said with an easy smile. 

You sent her matching tight smiles, but she didn’t seem to notice the tension the two of you were exuding from every pore. “We’ll be right in, Mary. Thank you.” 

She nodded and hobbled off, likely to take a seat at the table. 

“We can talk later, Doll… let’s just eat and get out of here, alright?” he asked, offering his hand which you took without hesitation. 

“Alright, Sweetheart. Whatever you say.”


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You and the Soldier continue your unplanned journey in New York. After an accident, memories start returning unbidden. It leads to a hard conversation neither of you expected to have.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Swearing (always), *death*, violence, blood  
> A/N: Y’all are horrible for suspectin’ a little old lady. Horrible, I tell ya. She made you cookies and you repay her with skepticism.

[Originally posted by daydreamsandsmoothies](https://tmblr.co/Zh7w0j27Frv0s)

_“Steve? Margaret?” Mary said from the doorway, drawing both your and the Soldier’s attention. “Everything’s ready and the table’s set, if you’re ready to eat” she said with an easy smile.  
_

_You sent her matching tight smiles, but she didn’t seem to notice the tension the two of you were exuding from every pore. “We’ll be right in, Mary. Thank you.”  
_

_She nodded and hobbled off, likely to take a seat at the table.  
_

_“We can talk later, Doll… let’s just eat and get out of here, alright?” he asked, offering his hand which you took without hesitation.  
_

_“Alright, Sweetheart. Whatever you say.”_

* * *

_Cold._

_It was so cold.  
_

_The kind of cold that seeped into your bones, freezing you from the inside out.  
_

_You knew it intimately; it was the chill of cryogenic stasis._

_No, don’t want to go back.  
_

_Not the cold place._

_Can’t think in the cold place.  
_

_Don’t send me back._

_Please._

_The cold place hurts.  
_

_It’s dark._

**Wake up.**

_No, don’t want to wake up. It hurts. Not cold, but can’t think right.  
_

_Body does bad things._

_Don’t want to do bad things anymore._

**Wake up!**

_No! I won’t go back! You can’t make me!_

You awoke and sat up in a flurry of movement, fist flying toward your attacker. Your fist landed with a satisfying crunch and you grinned ferally at the feeling, yelling victoriously as electricity coursed through your hand and into the HYDRA meat puppet on the other end of your digits. 

“No!” 

You watched in confusion as the Soldier jumped between you and your tormentor, brain incapable of fathoming why he would protect someone who hurt him, too. 

“You have to calm down!” he said, hands coming to rest firmly on your shoulders. 

Your face twisted with rage, a primal snarl spilling from your lips as you twisted his right wrist and kicked him as hard as you could. If he would defend those that hurt you, you would hurt him, too, for his own good. You wouldn’t go back into the cold dark. 

The Soldier hit the far wall with a dull thud, his skull cracking hard enough against it that it chipped and left a huge dent. He groaned but didn’t fall, blue eyes trained steadily on you, though you could tell you’d dazed him with that hit.

“Please, come back!” he said with more emotion than you’d ever heard before. 

It was a trick. A ploy. _They_ made him act that way. He couldn’t be trusted. 

You rushed him before he could regain his composure, foot flying into the space his head had been an instant before. Your foot got stuck in the plaster of the wall for an instant before you were able to pull it out, but it was all the Soldier needed. 

He tackled you to the ground, grappling with you carefully. One touch from your hands and he’d be shocked into unconsciousness and if he wasn’t careful you’d gore him with your feet’s cold metal talons. 

“Please, Doll. Come back. This isn’t you. Come back to me. I love you.” 

His words were low, murmured in your ear with such conviction that you actually paused your struggles… or at least lessened them. Something was nagging at you in the back of your mind. You took a few deep chest-heaving breaths as your sympathetic nervous system continued to run haywire. _Danger! Danger! Danger!_ flashed in your mind, but that wasn’t right, was it? The Soldier wasn’t your enemy. He never was.

“That’s it, Baby… Just listen to my voice… Please, (Y/N).” 

Just like that, it was as though a spell was lifted from your mind. You went limp in his arms, the room around you suddenly coming into razor-sharp focus as the fog lifted from your thoughts. 

Hideous wallpaper. Lumpy cushions. Noisy pipes. Sounds of the city outside the open window lined with potted plants. Smell of cookies in the oven. Lifeless hazel eyes staring at you from the ground. Burnt flesh overpowering the smell of the cookies. Smoking hair falling onto the rug. Mouth open in shock. Still chest. No movement. 

“No. No no no,” you whimpered, trying to crawl out of Bucky’s arms to Mary. He held you to his chest, not letting you move an inch.

“Shh, shh, Doll. Don’t look. Calm down,” he murmured in your ear, his right hand soothing your hair down in an attempt to calm you. His large right hand cupped the back of your head and pulled your face to the junction of his neck and shoulder. Even his familiar scent couldn’t help settle your tempestuous mind as he rocked you back and forth.

“I killed her, Buck. I killed her. She’s dead,” you whimpered, tears spilling freely over your eyes and down your cheeks where they dropped onto his thin cotton shirt, leaving dark wet circles. You didn’t even hear the hitch in his breathing when you said his name, too focused on the horror before your own eyes, too consumed with guilt and grief. 

“I know, Doll. You didn’t mean to, which I know doesn’t make it any easier. It was an accident. Please, breathe,” he beseeched you, voice urgent and low.

You took a few deep breaths, though they just came out as distraught, racking sobs. “I-I’ve never- She was innocent, Bucky! And _I_ killed her. No one ordered me to, but I killed her! It was _me!_ ” you sobbed, unable to look away from those once-kind wrinkle-lined vacant eyes. 

“I know, baby. I know. We have to go, though,” Bucky whispered urgently. He was right, of course. It may be the middle of the day in one of the loudest cities in the world, but one of the neighbors had almost assuredly heard the ruckus you’d caused. But-

“We can’t leave her,” you said, distraught, finally tearing your gaze from her lifeless body to stare up at Bucky, gaze frantic and wide. She didn’t deserve to be left like that in the middle of her apartment. It was obvious from talking to her for a few hours that she didn’t get visitors often. Her neighbors were more likely to notice the smell of her decay than a friend or family member were to realize she hadn’t been around in a while.

Bucky’s face darkened almost imperceptibly. “Never said we would… Get out of here, Doll. I’ll meet you in Central Park in an hour, alright?” he asked, voice low and stern, belying the huge emotion in his eyes. 

You searched his face, not comprehending. “Without you?” 

He shook his head slowly, expression tinged with something you couldn’t quite place. “I’ll take care of everything, Sweetheart. Just go, alright? I’ll be there before you know it,” he said, voice surprisingly even. 

It was a testament to how shaken you were that you merely nodded at his words, standing on shaky legs and heading to the fire escape. You weren’t so far gone that you’d slip up by walking out the front door. 

“Doll.”

You paused, halfway out the windowsill, and looked back at Bucky, who had your gloves and shoes in his hands. Just a hint of concern peeked through his careful mask, probably trying to stay strong for you. 

“Thanks,” you said shakily, not able to look at Mary as you crossed the room and took them from him, slipping them on with practiced ease. Your shoes, at least, were still on, so you made a beeline for the window, eager to escape the stiflingly still air of the apartment. 

You even had the wherewithal to check the alley below for any passersby before you dropped four stories to the ground, barely feeling the shock travel up your body as your feet met the unyielding cement sidewalk. 

You walked like a ghost through the streets, thoughts back in the apartment with Mary and Bucky. 

_Bucky._

His words returned to you as you made your way across the Brooklyn Bridge and into Manhattan. You replayed his words over and over again in your head, the only clear part of that entire horrible episode. There was something in the way he said it that-

He’d done this before. Not the Winter Soldier, but _Bucky_. 

Memories flickered hazily in your mind as though you were looking at them through a dirty window, voices heard as though they were miles away; Dum Dum and Bucky talking in hushed voices in one of the many dilapidated living rooms of the houses you stayed in while on mission in Europe. 

“Cap didn’t see?” 

“No, Dugan. Steve… Stevie doesn’t need to see all that.” 

The scene shifted again, Jacques and Bucky talking, the latter responding in clumsily-enunciated but accurate French. _“Thank you, my friend. You saved my ass again today. Nazi bastards never saw you coming.”_

_“Of course,_ Frenchy _. Someone has to watch your backs.”_

You couldn’t quite remember the way Jacques had laughed at that, his deep rumble of a chuckle a mere pale imitation in your mind. After a moment, though, he quieted and whispered. _“You should tell the Captain. You don’t have to keep putting yourself in danger by scouting-”_

Bucky’s voice was quiet but tense when he spoke again. _“It’s alright, Jacques. Steve trusts me to get the job done and keep all of you ugly sad sacks safe. Doesn’t have to know exactly how I do it.”_

Jacques had made a disgruntled noise at this and you could practically see Bucky waving away his concerns. 

The room dissolved into smoke and reformed as one of your old workshops.

“This is the twenty-second replacement knife, Buck!” you remember yourself saying in exasperation. 

His smile was winning and managed to lessen your annoyance a hair. “No one else makes ‘em like you do, Doll,” he said, batting his eyelashes as he gazed down at you. 

You rolled your eyes but it was clear to both of you that you’d caved as soon as you turned and began gathering the things you needed from your workshop. “What do you even _do_ with all of them, anyway? Throw them into the nearest lake or river for fun? Just to annoy me?” 

You could imagine, now, the shadow that passed over his face before he righted it with a smile. “Actually, I let Jim borrow them. He uses them to scratch his back and, well, there isn’t enough money in the world to get me to touch ‘em again after that.”

You remembered snorting at his joke as you fired up your forge. “You’re lucky you’re cute.” 

You could practically feel his arms wrap around you from behind, his breath ghosting against your ear. “Nah, I just have the best girl in the whole world.”

With a start you realized you’d arrived in Central Park, your mind somehow able to multitask and lead you there unheeded. 

You sat down on the nearest park bench, thoughts a thousand places at once. How had you missed the signs? Not read between the lines of his hushed conversations with the guys? Bucky had always been skilled at stealth and infiltration. It made sense he sometimes scouted ahead of the guys and Steve, taking out lookouts, key targets- not unlike his work as the Winter Soldier. Why hadn’t he ever told you? Did he not trust you? He must not trust you; It was the only explanation your frazzled brain could come up with.

* * *

You could tell it had been longer than an hour by the time he finally showed up in Central Park, wordlessly sitting down next to you, his right arm brushing against your left lightly. 

When you didn’t speak immediately he opened his mouth, likely to ask if you were okay (a stupid question) or apologize for being late, but you spoke before a single word left his lips. 

“Why didn’t you tell me?” you asked, finally turning your tormented gaze on him. “Why didn’t you trust me?” 

He gaped at you. “I… I don’t understand, (Y/N)…” You couldn’t help but recognize how your heartstrings tugged at the sound of your name, even after all this time and pain.

You frowned, knowing he probably at least had an inkling of what you’d meant. “Steve was the golden boy. I know that. He couldn’t _do_ everything, not with the gaze of nations on him. I always wondered how we got such detailed information on the HYDRA bases. Thought it had something to do with the SSR,” you paused, studying his face carefully. Yes, just there. The way he couldn’t hold your gaze. The way he seemed to shrink in on himself. “It was you, wasn’t it?” 

Bucky was quiet for a long minute, gaze fixed on the ground in front of him, before he nodded once stiffly. 

“Why didn’t you tell me?” you asked again, voice tight. 

His voice was so quiet you almost couldn’t hear him. “I wanted to. I almost did a bunch of times, but…” He heaved out a great sigh before he finally looked up at you, steel blue eyes immeasurably sad. You stared at him, knowing he’d finish his thought if you gave him enough time… and silent pressure. “But you looked at me like I was the one with shoulders like Atlas and not Steve- like I held the world up. I loved you, still do, and couldn’t bear to lose you because you knew about the things I did that no one saw: How I could cripple a HYDRA base’s command with only a knife and pistol. That I hunted down HYDRA contacts… and more often than not put a bullet between their eyes then hid the evidence so no one would be the wiser. You and Steve… you were _everything_ to me. I couldn’t bear the thought of scaring you away.” From the way he was staring at the half-frozen ground, you could tell he wanted it to swallow him up.

The sound of you sniffling had his head snapping up, concern instantly lining every feature. He immediately turned on the bench, moving to wrap his arms around you, but you shoved him firmly in the chest. Even through your tears you could see his kicked-puppy expression. “I’m sorry, Doll. I should-”

“Whatever you’re about to say, can it,” you said, voice cracking with raw emotion. He looked away from you, eyes downcast. He looked torn as though he wanted to go but also couldn’t stand the very idea of leaving you. You saved him the indecision. “I’m mad, Buck. Mad at you, mad at the war, mad at what _they_ made us- ghosts. But Bucky, more than anything, I’m heartbroken.”

His gaze snapped back to you, brows knit together in confusion as a confused frown tugged at the corner of his lips. 

“I’m heartbroken that you wouldn’t trust me. That you thought I’d leave you for doing whatever it took to keep Steve, me, and the guys safe. For doing your part to end the war. For thinking you had to hide all of it from me. Even without the last thirty years to put everything in perspective, I would have loved you anyway. Did you somehow forget that I created weapons of mass destruction and melted men’s faces off with my inventions? You think I’d suddenly turn by back on you just because you make hard decisions?” you asked, hands seeking his out of their own accord. You gave them a gentle squeeze which he seemed to return without realizing it.

He shook his head slowly, bitter smile on his face. It was clear from the look in his eyes that he still thought you too good for him. “No, Doll. I thought you’d leave me because I enjoyed it. Maybe not the act of killing itself, but the fact that I was useful. To you, Steve, our country. When I snapped a man’s neck or buried my blade in a jugular, all I could think about was how I was glad I could do what I did. I was keeping everyone safe. It should have mattered more to me that I was killing a human being… but I only ever felt relief.” 

His eyes widened in surprise when your arms went around his neck as you threw yourself into his lap. A few of the late-evening park patrons whistled playfully at such an open display of affection, although a few moms clicked their tongues in annoyance. You only had eyes for the man in front of you, though. “Me too, Bucky. Me too,” you whispered fervently, burying your face in his shoulder. His arms looped around your waist and he pulled you to his chest with a nearly bone-crushing force. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispered hoarsely into your ear. It was clear from how thick his voice was that he was trying to keep his emotions in check. “I should have told you, Doll. There’s no excuse.”

You shook your head as you took in a shuddering breath, face rubbing against his soft shirt. “Thank you,” you whispered, Mary’s body flashing unbidden behind your eyelids. 

If he didn’t know what you were thanking him for, he didn’t say anything. He merely rubbed your back comfortingly, though you weren’t sure who needed comforting more at that moment. 

It was only once streetlights had begun turning on that you finally got up from your spot on the park bench, disused joints protesting the movement. You wanted to ask him what he’d done with Mary’s body or even what he’d done to her apartment, but you couldn’t bring yourself to ask. It was still too fresh, the guilt consuming you from the inside out. You let him lead you through the town, your consciousness receding in a way that should have concerned you, but it was easier than facing the truth. 

You barely registered entering the flophouse. It was only until you entered the tiny room with its single narrow bed and Bucky pulled you on top of him and began murmuring sweet nothings in your ear that you realized you’d stopped moving. He recited every memory he could dredge up of you from his cluttered, damaged mind. Eventually you emerged from your fugue-like state, volunteering information by way of short, clipped sentences when his brain inevitably failed to provide him with a complete memory.

After a few minutes of silence on his end, you finally spoke, unprompted. 

“What was her last name?” you whispered, voice failing you. 

There was a pause where Bucky thought about your question, his warm hand not halting the circles it was massaging into your back. “Douglas, I think,” he muttered finally, voice tight.

You dreamed of little old Mary Douglas that night… and every night after for a week and a half straight.

 


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You and Bucky make the most of your newfound freedom by forming some semblance of a real life together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Swearing (always), smut (18+, NSFW), oral (f receiving), unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), fingering (m receiving)  
> I really must insist you not read this chapter if you’re under the age of 18!

[Originally posted by thosekidswhohuntmonsters](https://tmblr.co/ZyVV5h2WbgJWf)

_After a few minutes of silence on his end, you finally spoke, unprompted.  
_

_“What was her last name?” you whispered, voice failing you.  
_

_There was a pause where Bucky thought about your question, his warm hand not halting the circles it was massaging into your back. “Douglas, I think,” he muttered finally, voice tight._

_You dreamed of little old Mary Douglas that night… and every night after for a week and a half straight._

* * *

**One Week Later**

“I’m home!” you called out to the silent dilapidated apartment in Bed-Stuy. You didn’t need to; there was no doubt in your mind that Bucky had heard you long before you’d shoved the key into the lock on the front door. He might have even watched you from the window, but that was less likely. He avoided any chance of being spotted if he could help it and you wouldn’t be surprised if he’d taped newspapers over the windows by now. You kicked your shoes off as soon as the door shut, relieved to finally be free of them. 

You were placing a meager bag of groceries on the worn linoleum counter when movement in the doorway of the cramped bedroom caught your attention. Even as you pulled out a knife your brain registered the presence. 

_Bucky. Safe.  
_

He didn’t so much as flinch at the knife in your hand as he walked over to you. By the time he wrapped his arms around your waist from behind, it was already stowed safely back on your person. 

“Didja get the eggs?” he asked quietly between kisses to your neck and cheek. His stubble scratched deliciously against your skin and you couldn’t help the small smile that crept onto your face… even if his question annoyed you.

“’Course I got the eggs, you mook. Our grocery list only has ten items,” you grumped, making a show of wiggling out of his grasp to put the eggs in the fridge (you had to admit refrigerators were a nice step up from iceboxes. The future wasn’t all bad, it seemed). 

He let out a breathy chuckle and released you, but not before ducking in to place an unfairly distracting kiss to your lips. 

You may or may not have gotten sidetracked and stood there kissing Bucky longer than you’d meant to.

Who were you kidding, you _definitely_ did. 

Finally, he broke the kiss and stared down at you, bright mischievous eyes fixed on yours. “Eggs? Fridge?” he asked playfully, gaze flicking to said appliance with a slight tilt of his head.

You felt heat go straight to your cheeks. “Yes. Right. Eggs. Eggs in the fridge. Good. Get the milk? Please?” you asked, your brain short-circuiting at Bucky’s random display of affection (not that you were complaining). 

You couldn’t see Bucky as you opened the fridge and placed the eggs in the top shelf, but you assuredly heard his annoyed grunt. “You got 1%.” 

You slowly turned your head to look at him over your shoulder, an incredulous and dangerous look on your face that immediately had Bucky backtracking. 

“Uh, 1% is fine. Maybe whole next time, though?” he asked, clutching at the gallon of milk like it would shield him from your wrath. “The war kinda ruined skim for me and 1% still kinda tastes terrible, so-”

Your hand shot out and grabbed the milk and Bucky dropped it like a hot potato. You wordlessly shoved the gallon in the fridge without looking away from Bucky who seemed to almost start sweating under your scrutiny. You shut the door just a bit harder than you had to and stepped deliberately up to Bucky, jaw set. 

“Sorry, shouldn’t be complainin’. I didn’t say anythin’ earlier and you did the shoppi-”

You silenced him with a kiss to the lips, grin pulling your mouth up at the corners. He made a small surprised noise but quickly kissed you back, a tiny smile of his own breaking out against your lips. You broke the kiss and chuckled, placing a light kiss to the tip of his nose. “I’m just messing with you, Buck. Yeah, we can get whole milk next time.” 

He smiled and pulled you back into a deep kiss that left you breathless. “Any more things for the iceb- refrigerator?” he asked, just as short of breath. You shook your head quickly and just like that his lips descended on yours again as his hands trailed down your sides. His hands gripped the backs on your thighs and lifted you with ease on to the counter. You could feel the groceries and various papers getting pushed around as you scooted backwards. Your legs parted without a second thought and he placed himself between them like he belonged there and pulled you flush to his body. Fingers explored under each other’s clothes as you lost yourselves in the kiss and your legs wrapped around his slim waist to cross right behind his firm ass. 

He broke the frenzied kiss long enough to get out, “Bedroom?” even as his deft fingers found their way to the hooks of your bra and undid them with practiced ease. His hands slid into the cups of your bra and rolled your nipples between his fingers. The conflicting temperature of his hands had you mewling helplessly against his lips. 

You shook your head and pulled your hips to his, both of you letting out a breathy gasp as you rubbed against his already straining cock. “No. Need you now,” you breathed, hands pulling up his ratty black cotton shirt that you’d lifted off someone’s clothesline. 

It was with great restraint that he pulled back and trailed kisses up your neck to your ear. “Let go, baby. Want to make you feel good,” he whispered, hands sliding out of your shirt and reaching behind himself to tug gently at your metal legs. You reluctantly uncrossed your legs and tried to contain your excitement as he quickly undid the buttons to your [ridiculous bell bottomed] pants and practically ripped them off of you. It was a surprise that they came off without being torn, but you completely forgot about them the moment they hit the floor. The underwear weren’t quite as fortunate and they landed on the broken tiles in pieces. 

You didn’t have to wonder at what he’d do next; he was already sinking down to his knees, pausing long enough only to pull you to the edge of the counter. He didn’t give you any time to prepare yourself. His broad shoulders shoved your legs apart and his mouth was on you in an instant, his beard scratching against your sensitive inner thighs. 

“God, Bucky, _yes_ ,” you breathed. Your head fell against the cupboards behind you even as his mouth worked your body into a taught bow. Your fingers found their way to his hair where they tangled themselves in his dark brown locks with abandon. 

His tongue licked broad stripes up your folds, earning him a tug that had him letting loose a small groan against your core. He’d always liked his hair pulled, your Bucky, but he seemed to like it even more now. 

You’d been with each other so long in such an intimate way that you didn’t have to tell him what to do. He knew your body possibly better than his own and the sharp tugs to his hair and breathless moans would assuage any second-guessing he may have had. You wondered sometimes how he could enjoy pleasuring you like this, but judging from the noises he was making between your legs it was no hardship to him. 

His tongue alternated between licking between your folds and disappearing deep inside you. Occasionally his nose would brush your clit but he seemed to be ignoring it on purpose, driving you nearly mad with need. 

“Please, Buck. Please,” you whimpered, heavily lidded eyes gazing needily at the man between your legs. 

He gave you one last long, sinful lick before gazing up at you through lust-blown eyes. “Use your words, Doll. What do you want?” he asked huskily.

You bit your lip, not wanting to voice your thoughts aloud, but you and he both knew he wouldn’t budge until you said it. So, you caved. “My clit. Please, I want your mouth on-”

His tongue darted out and swirled around the engorged bud, instantly drawing a loud moan from your lips. You clapped a hand over your mouth, not wanting the entire building to hear you. “Like that?” he asked salaciously, looking up at you with those nearly black eyes. Before you could answer his mouth found your clit again, giving it a gentle suck. A strangled cry left your mouth and he relented to lavish the rest of you with deft licks. 

“You wicked man,” you murmured fondly. You could practically feel him grin. His beard would almost definitely leave beard burn later but you couldn’t find it in yourself to care; it felt too damn good. 

In minutes he’d reduced you to a pile of jello on the counter, your poor hand the only thing keeping you from screaming your ecstasy to the heavens. “B-Bucky, I’m so close- Just like- _ah!_ ”

“Come on my tongue, Doll,” he whispered filthily. It was enough to send you flying over the edge, your thighs clamping down on his head as your orgasm burned through your body. Your fingers tugged sharply on his hair and his resulting moan felt like it resonated throughout your whole body. He worked his tongue over your clit until the sensation was obviously overwhelming then switched to spearing you with it, moaning as though you were the best thing he’d ever tasted. 

When you were spent he finally ceased, standing slowly and removing your shirt and bra in one fluid motion. “So beautiful, (Y/N),” he whispered almost reverently as he placed kisses gently to your skin. 

“You’re overdressed, Buck,” you complained, single finger hooking into his waistband. He grinned at you and captured your lips in a fiery kiss. You could taste yourself on his lips and tongue which was almost enough to distract you from the fact that you could feel him shedding his past with a ruthless efficiency. You heard the belt buckle hit the ground and you couldn’t be sure if he’d stepped out of them or not (kissing him was _much_ more important), but a second later you could feel his tip nudging your entrance. He slid home in a single thrust that had both of you gasping into the kiss. You could tell it was taking everything he had to not fuck into you with reckless abandon. His metal hand was gripping the counter so hard it started to splinter, but you didn’t care. He was the only thing that mattered. “Please move,” you begged, even though you knew he was teetering precariously on the edge of control. 

You didn’t care. You could take it.

His eyes flashed and his arms when underneath your legs, hooking just behind your knees. You had only a moment to sit up and wrap your arms around his neck before he started slamming into you. There was nothing gentle about this love-making. It was frenzied, messy, rough. 

Perfect. 

He trailed kisses down your jaw and he plunged into you again and again, drawing moan after breathy moan from your lips. You knew he’d sucked a half dozen bruises in your skin, but you liked it. No, you _loved_ it.

You used one hand to fumble blindly along the counter until you found the bag of groceries. You grinned victoriously, though it only lasted a second before a particularly delicious thrust wiped it off your face. If Bucky noticed the little bottle of olive oil in your hand, he didn’t say anything. Then again, he was too busy losing himself in your body to notice much else. As you popped the seal on the bottle and poured a small amount on your fingers, you had to take a second and appreciate just how fucking gorgeous he was, arm and all. He was still in mission-condition, all bulging muscles and stamina. A thin layer of sweat coated his whole body. 

_God, I love this man._

You watched him carefully as you reached around him and carefully massaged around his hole with your oil-covered fingers. His hips stuttered in their pace as a loud moan left his lips and his gaze flew to you, surprise sharpening his focus more than it had been since you started. 

“Tell me to stop,” you whispered, one of your flesh fingers probing experimentally at his hole, but not pushing in until he gave the okay. 

“God please don’t stop,” he said in a strangled voice that instantly had you kissing him hard on the lips. 

_Fuck, I **love** this man. _

His started moving again but kept it slow as you slowly teased his hole with your finger, pushing it in just barely to the first joint then back in, earning small needy moans from him each time. 

“Please, Doll, stop teasin’,” he said, voice deep with lust. 

Instead of responding you kissed him open-mouthed as your finger slipped slowly into his ass and sat there as his hips faltered and a shudder ran through his whole body. You swallowed his moans and slowly pulled it out until only your fingertip was left, then thrust it back in slowly. His hips flew forward into you and your moans danced in the air between you. “You okay, Sweetheart?” you breathed, fucking him slowly with your finger. Your voice seemed to snap him back into himself and he nodded quickly at you before his hips resumed their pace, a low whine leaving his lips when you pulled your finger out. “Words, Buck,” you said, biting his ear gently. 

“Isso good, Doll. More,” he pleaded, voice punctuated by his deep thrusts that nearly made you forget what you were doing for a moment. 

You squeezed a little more onto your fingers for good measure before you returned to his ass, thrusting one finger into his welcoming hole with ease. The effect was immediate. He picked up pace and his head dropped to your shoulder, his breath hot against your skin. You fucked him in time with his thrusts for a few strokes before you carefully added another finger. Like with the first one, his pace faltered for a few strokes before he got used to the feeling.

The angle wasn’t ideal, but you bent your fingers so they continually hit against that spot that had him burying his face in your neck so he wouldn’t make too much noise. You knew he wouldn’t last long like this and sure enough his hips picked up speed and became a little less coordinated as he chased his release. Your fingers matched his movements thrust for thrust and were just beginning to cramp when he spoke, voice raspy. “I’m gonna come, Doll. Fuck, I’m so close-” 

“Me too,” you breathed, free hand going between your bodies to rub light circles into your clit. “C’mon, Buck. Come inside me,” you moaned, watching as he came undone in your arms. 

“(Y/N)! Oh, fuck, (Y/N)!” he choked out, his hips slamming into you again and again as he came, painting your walls with his release. You came with him and couldn’t help but admire how his ass clenched around your fingers as though his body was loathe to let them go. He swallowed your moans with a kiss that left you nearly as breathless as your second orgasm. His cock twitched inside of you as you both came down from your highs, neither of you ready to move just yet. His forehead rested against yours, eyes closed as he regained his composure. As your fingers slipped out of his ass, though, his eyes flicked open to stare at you and you had to admire how absolutely _wrecked_ he looked. 

“You’re so amazing,” you said, awed, leaning forward to give him a relatively chaste kiss. 

He grinned into the kiss, a breathy chuckle leaving his lips. “That’s my line, Doll,” he whispered when you stopped kissing him long enough to catch your breath.

You rolled your eyes, but a happy smile spread onto your lips anyway. “Let’s go to bed, Bucky. I’m tired,” you said, smoothing his sex-tousled hair. Both of you shivered as he pulled out of you. At this point, it wasn’t surprising that he was still half hard. Perks of a super soldier serum.

“Don’t care about the groceries?” he asked playfully, eyeing the bottle of olive oil next to where you were sitting. 

You smirked at him, then reached down to grab the bottle of oil. “Well, I guess this one can stay out for a while.”

“Now you’re talkin’, Doll,” Bucky said excitedly, scooping you off the counter and into his arms, bottle and all. 

You couldn’t help the joyful laugh that pealed from your lips as he carried you bridal style into your tiny shared bedroom. 

* * *

Hours later you laid together on the small bed, limbs tangled together so it was difficult to tell where he ended and you began. 

“How was work today?” Bucky asked quietly. Even though it was the city that never sleeps, it was finally late enough in the night that there was something resembling quiet… and the apartment had thin walls. 

“Good. I’m learning a lot at the repair place. The grocery store isn’t as nice, but I don’t have to work with customers. I told the boss I only speak Russian and French so he seemed content to have me just restock shelves. You should see all the stuff they sell nowadays, Buck,” you said, eyes glazed over as you recalled all the glory that were modern supermarkets. The supermarkets of your time couldn’t hold a candle. “How’s work at the docks?” you asked, peering up at him curiously.

Bucky scoffed, though a corner of his mouth cocked up into a smile. “Awful, really. The work itself isn’t so bad, but I realized pretty quick that I’ve done that kinda work before. I keep hopping through time,” he said, smile now more of a grimace. 

You frowned and ran a hand gently over his cheek. He closed his eyes and leaned into the touch like an overgrown cat. “You don’t have to work there, y’know. Not if it’s too hard.” 

He was already shaking his head before you’d finished talking, though. “If you’re working I’m sure as hell working, too,” he argued. 

You rolled your eyes. Bucky was forward thinking in a lot of ways (the bedroom still smelled like olive oil) but he had a tendency to revert to Upstanding 40′s Man at the worst times. “No, none of that bullshit. If it gets to be too much you’ll quit that job and we’ll get you another one.” 

Bucky sighed and tugged you close to your chest, doing a flawless impression of a koala. “Yes, ma’am.”

You smiled and placed a kiss to the center of his chest that had him relaxing a bit. “You’d tell me the same, Sweetheart.” 

He let out a year’s worth of sighs. “Yeah, yeah… get some sleep, Doll. I’ll take first watch.” 

But after a half hour you still couldn’t fall asleep.

“Bucky?” 

“You’re supposed to be sleepin’, Doll,” he whispered, fondly chastising. 

“Peggy and Howard alive. Most of the Commandos, too.”

Silence, only the two of you breathing steadily in the darkness.

“We could-” you began.

“We can’t, (Y/N). You know that,” he said, voice tight. 

You squeezed him tightly, knowing he was right. It would be too dangerous to reach out to any of them, especially Howard and Peggy. The guys were too normal… neither of you would dare risk putting them in danger by reaching out. Peggy and Howard had so much protection that neither you nor Bucky were optimistic in your chances of seeing either of them without being captured. 

Steve…

It had only taken one trip to the library to confirm what Zola had told Bucky all those years ago. Steve had flown the plane directly into the ice. Bucky had been reduced to a silent, crying mess and you simply sat beside him for hours until the library finally closed and you’d had to practically drag him out under the judgemental eyes of the librarians. His grief was fathomless and it was hard to grieve for your friend in the face of Bucky’s misery. 

You thought about what you’d do if you found out Peggy had died that same way and got a glimpse of exactly what Bucky was going through. 

It had been a hard week and you knew that slump to Bucky’s shoulders would never go away completely, but he was at least eating and working.

It was all you could hope for. 

“I know,” you whispered, just barely loud enough for him to hear, even with his enhanced hearing. A pause, then. “We could find Ran.”

“He’ll think we killed Mila, probably… and we failed in keeping her safe… I couldn’t face him now even if I wanted to.”

“It… it wasn’t our fault…” you said helplessly, needing to believe it. 

Bucky ran a hand through your hair and shushed you. “No… but we did it, Doll. We did all of it,” he said gently. You didn’t sob or hiccup or gasp, but he somehow knew you’d begun crying. He leaned back to peer down at you then wiped away your tears with his right thumb. He placed kisses to each of your cheeks then hugged you back to his chest. “Let it out, Doll… no use bottlin’ it up. Not with me.” 

You weren’t sure how long you cried in Bucky’s arms. You weren’t sure if he cried with you. 

All you knew was that when you woke up the next morning with Bucky asleep by your side and daylight shining through the yellowed newspapers, the world didn’t feel quite so terrible as it did when you’d gone to sleep. 

 


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky asks you to do the unthinkable. You try your best to make money for the two of you to survive. Meanwhile, dark forces lurk in the shadows.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Swearing (always), suicide pact**, talk of suicide**, murder, death, violence, blood, guns, torture  
> A/N: oh shit boiiii. This chapter is a tough one. Don’t read it if you’re in a dark headspace my dudes.

[Originally posted by luvinchris](https://tmblr.co/Z3JLAs2BTKxZ8)

_Bucky ran a hand through your hair and shushed you. “No… but we did it, Doll. We did all of it,” he said gently. You didn’t sob or hiccup or gasp, but he somehow knew you’d begun crying. He leaned back to peer down at you then wiped away your tears with his right thumb. He placed kisses to each of your cheeks then hugged you back to his chest. “Let it out, Doll… no use bottlin’ it up. Not with me.”  
_

_You weren’t sure how long you cried in Bucky’s arms. You weren’t sure if he cried with you.  
_

_All you knew was that when you woke up the next morning with Bucky asleep by your side and daylight shining through the yellowed newspapers, the world didn’t feel quite so terrible as it did when you’d gone to sleep._

* * *

“Did you know about this?” you asked, dropping the stack of xeroxed papers onto Bucky’s lap. You were visiting him down at the docks between your shifts, during his short lunch break. 

Normally you would have gone back to the apartment to avoid being out in public, but you’d been evicted not even a day ago. Multiple noise complaints from surrounding tenants prompted the landlord to kick you and Bucky out without a second thought, not that you could blame him. Between your and Bucky’s nightmares and the fact that you didn’t have proper paperwork, you were too much of a liability. Until you found a new place to live, you’d crash at different flophouses every night. Working would be tough until then, but both you and Bucky were determined to live some semblance of a normal life. 

Bucky raised an eyebrow at you and leafed dutifully through the pages, eyebrows raising slowly as he read until you were sure they’d disappear into his hairline. By the time he was finished he had a small smile on his face that you couldn’t help but mirror. “I had no idea. I mean, I’d noticed there weren’t signs everywhere anymore, but I never imagined they’d actually do it… I’d always hoped, but…” 

You smiled and took his head. “We were almost awake for it, too. It was in 1964. Do you think Gabe took part in the sit-ins and marches?” you asked, resting your head lightly on his shoulder. It was his metal one, but he had enough padding on between his jacket and shirt that it was still comfortable. 

Bucky made a noncommittal noise in the back of his throat. “Dunno. Wouldn’t surprise me. If he did, I’m sure Dum Dum joined him in a show of solidarity.” 

You nodded. “I can see that. I would have liked to hear Doctor King’s speech. I can’t find a full recording of it anywhere.” 

Bucky nodded in commiseration. “Seemed like a good man.”

For a short while the two of you sat in silence, Bucky munching quietly away at a bowl of rice. “Is it bad that I’m relieved we weren’t the ones to pull the trigger for once?”

Bucky paused and swallowed thickly before setting the bowl down beside him on the bench and threw his arm around your shoulder, reeling you easily into his chest. “No, Doll. I know I’m pretty messed up in the head, but even I know we’re supposed to not enjoy killin’ people,” he said quietly, lips brushing light kisses to your hair.

You nodded slowly, thoughts drifting to dark places unbidden. You didn’t have much time left together; his break would be ending soon. 

“If they ever try to take me again, kill me.”

You looked up, startled by Bucky’s sudden words. “What?” you breathed, not wanting to believe your ears. 

He looked at you then, his blue eyes cold and sad. “You heard me, Doll.” 

“I can’t do that, Bucky,” you said, distressed. 

He took your hands in his and suddenly that icy wall behind his eyes gave way to fiery passion. “You gotta, Doll. If they come for us you, gotta put a bullet in my head. Fry me. I don’t care. I can’t go back, (Y/N),” he pleaded, voice strained. 

You gaped at him for a minute, unsure of what to say as tears filled your eyes. “You’re askin’ too much of me, Buck,” you whimpered. 

Bucky pulled you into his chest and ran his big hand down your back soothingly. “I know, Doll. I know. But I don’t have a kill switch like you do. You can fry yourself, but if they get me pinned, I won’t be able to do anythin’. I can’t go back to bein’ their puppet, Sweetheart. Please, promise me,” he said fervently, refusing to back down.

It broke your heart, but you eventually nodded past the tears and hiccuping sobs. “Me too,” you managed to squeak out between sobs. 

Bucky didn’t have to ask what you meant, he knew. He nodded silently and ran his fingers through your hair, his lips placing kisses to any spot on your face he could reach. “I love you, Doll,” he said quietly. 

“I love you, too, Buck,” you said hoarsely. 

“Oi, Hanson! Get your ass back to work! Break ended ten minutes ago and I ain’t paying you to sit around and kiss your girlfriend, ya damn flower child!” 

The voice of Bucky’s boss echoed between the shipping containers and Bucky let out a long sigh. “Gotta get back to work, Doll,” he said, apologetic frown on his face. 

“S’ok. Gotta get to my next job anyway,” you sniffled, clambering off of his lap reluctantly. 

He stood as soon as he was able and pulled you in for a quick, chaste kiss on the lips that still managed to leave you breathless. “I’ll see you at the flophouse later, (Y/N). Have a good afternoon at work, alright Sweetheart?” he said with a small smile, as though you hadn’t just promised to kill him if the Soviets or Hydra came after you. 

You put on a brave smile and pecked him once more on the cheek before handing him his unfinished lunch and the stack of papers on the Civil Rights Movement. “You too, Buck.” 

You turned and walked briskly back towards the center of town, willing yourself not to cry. 

Life wasn’t fair. You knew that from a young age. Ever since your parents dropped you off at the orphanage in Queens. Ever since you were rejected again and again from school after school just because you were a woman. When military leaders didn’t so much as give you a polite rejection when you tried to show them your designs. Hell, you never even made it past the secretaries most days. Even after meeting Peggy and finally getting your foot in the door, you still remained in Howard’s shadow. Howard himself may not have treated you badly, but no matter how hard he tried to give you credit for what you did, no one seemed to care. 

And then, for that shining year and handful of months with the guys, everything had been a whirlwind. You got attention and praise as the only woman in the Howling Commandos. They made dolls of you, interviewed you with Steve and Bucky. People knew you were Bucky’s best girl and Steve’s friend. Everyone recognized your genius. 

But then you fell off the train with Bucky and everything regressed to a new level of shit-tastic. You were put through hell and back and the fact you could walk down the street without murdering everyone in sight was to be praised. There were still some days where you couldn’t remember your name. Sometimes you called Bucky the Asset or the Soldier. He had his bad days, too, where he retreated in on himself until his eyes were hard and uncaring and you knew he didn’t see the world around him. 

Bucky blamed himself for every death you and he dealt out while brainwashed by the Soviets and Hydra. He wrote down every name he could remember in a tiny notebook and took it with him everywhere.

You didn’t add to the names. You didn’t want to think about everyone you’d killed. You only added one name to the list: Mary Douglas. She was the only death you felt truly responsible for. Even Mila hadn’t been your fault, though you still mourned your inability to protect her to this day. 

You arrived at the old abandoned-looking school building quicker than you realized, lost in thought as you were. The grafitti-covered sign for “Mother Josephine’s School for Wayward Children” swayed gently in the wind, the thick and once-beautifully carved sign barely hanging on by its nails. You glanced up and down the street before wiggling between a gap in the chain-link fence and made a beeline for the door in the back that you knew would be unlocked. 

The door creaked loudly as you opened it and you quickly stepped inside before someone saw you. The first few hallways were dim, lit only by the meager light filtering in through the old, grimy windows. You didn’t have any trouble seeing, but it still set your nerves on edge. There were too many places to hide in this old death trap, but you’d run out of options some time ago. 

You found the door to the basement with ease, having memorized the layout of the building off some old blueprints you’d found in the library before you’d showed up the first time. It also helped that you’d been here a few times already. You pulled your hat low over your eyes and made sure your boots and gloves hid your… enhancements.

The moment the door to the basement swung open, you were bathed in light. You took a deep breath and made your way down the creaky steps, half expecting them to give out under your weight. Metal limbs weren’t exactly light. 

A dozen heads turned towards you the moment you took the last step off the stairs and only about half turned back to their conversations or drinks after looking their fill. You ignored them all and went up to the bar, taking a seat on one of the rickety stools.

“What do you got for me, Patch?” you asked in undertones. 

Patch slid you a sealed beer, knowing full well you wouldn’t drink anything that could have possibly been tampered with. “Not much, little lady,” Patch said apologetically. “Not many of the jobs I have in right now are suitable for a single person… gifted though you may be,” Patch said quickly, seeing the look on your face. 

“I can handle it, Patch. Tell me what jobs are in right now, please,” you said through gritted teeth before snapping the bottle cap off with one of your metal fingers and taking a long sip. 

Patch sighed. “Couple of assassinations, mostly hits on goody-two-shoes that the Mob or Yakuza want dead but are unwilling to risk pinning on themselves. A guard detail, couple nights, needs a group to escort an entire convoy. A burglary of an old fat cat-”

“That one.”

Patch sighed and scratched his neck in the way he did whenever he was nervous. You didn’t think much of it; Patch was _always_ nervous. “Knew you’d take that one. I gotta warn ya, little lady, that old man’s not someone you wanna tango with. He’s got top notch security and-”

“How much?” you asked, cutting across him again. He never second-guessed the other patrons like this and it grated on your nerves. 

Patch let out a sigh, knowing he’d lose this fight as soon as he said the words. “$3,000.”

You let out a low whistle. “What’s the target? Vault? Jewels? Antiques?” you asked, interested in why someone would pay $3,000 to steal from a single house. Whatever they wanted had to be worth a lot. 

Patch let out a sigh. “You know the deal. Details are in the card, can’t just tell everyone or there’ll be-”

“Problems, in-fighting, stupid shit. Yeah, I know, Patch. I’ll take it, whatever it is. I can handle it,” you said, thinking perhaps you cut across the man too much. You really, really hated being coddled though. Pissed you off to no end. 

Patch gave you a long, flat stare before he sighed in defeat and reached for the stack of cards behind the bar and flipped through them until he found the right one. He held it out to you but pulled it back right as you were about to grab it. You glowered up at him but he didn’t even flinch. “Be careful, little lady. I like havin’ ya around and I know you’ll never see the light of day again if you get caught by this guy.” You would have snapped at him but his tone was nothing but sincere. You stared at him, caught off guard, before nodding slowly.

“I will, Patch.” 

He still didn’t look happy, but relented and handed you the card. “You know the drill. Call the number. Complete the job. Return for the reward.” 

You downed the last of the beer and slapped two dollars on the table. Sure, it was a bit much, but you were about to be rich. With that kind of reward you and Bucky could move into a nice apartment and not have to worry about money for a while. 

Bucky.

You should tell him about this second job. You told him you worked at a bank crunching numbers all day, but you had a feeling he didn’t quite believe you. Still, he didn’t want to outright question you, so he kept his mouth shut, knowing you’d tell him when you were ready. 

Being a mercenary/burglar-for-hire hadn’t exactly been the plan, but your skill set made you over-qualified and very, very good at it. This wasn’t the end-game, but you and Bucky needed the money right now, so you weren’t going to be picky. 

You returned to the flop house and left a note for him at the front desk, saying you’d gotten a shift at a bar and that you’d be back very late or very early tomorrow morning and not to wait up. You didn’t want to leave him alone, knowing full well he barely slept when you weren’t there, but it’d be better to pull the heist off at night. You checked the charge in your back capacitors and, satisfied they’d last the night, began prepping for the operation.

* * *

Wrong. 

Everything was wrong. 

When you arrived at the house you were supposed to rob, it was almost completely empty. You hadn’t made it more than ten feet inside before you turned on your heel and ran back out the front door, only to find it blocked by at least a dozen agents decked out in combat gear. 

Trap. It was a trap. 

By the time you fought through the agents that had boxed you in, you’d taken at least three gunshots to the body and your left thigh was leaking blood all over the place from a knife cut. You could hear more agents surrounding the building, but you wouldn’t sit around and let yourself get trapped by these bastards. You still didn’t even know who they were working for, but that was something you’d find out later. New York wasn’t safe anymore. You had to get back to Bucky and escape before they tightened the noose. 

For the first time in at least two weeks you activated your heel jets. The familiar feeling of your razor-sharp wheels popping into place sent a chill up your spine. Your hearing may not have been as advanced as Bucky’s but you were still able to pinpoint where most of the troops were coming from. 

Swearing in your head you turned your jets on full blast and rocketed out the doorway, wincing as you felt gunfire hot on your tail. 

You rounded the corner and took a small breath. You weren’t out of the woods yet, not by a long shot. Your stupidity had gotten your cover blown, but you doubted they’d found Bucky yet. If you could make it to him after losing these clowns, the two of you could be out of the city before they could sniff you out. 

You heard Majorca was nice this time of year. 

You took back alleys that you knew the military vehicles were too large to fit through, gave them the slip under bridges, and eventually made your way towards the flophouse in Brooklyn, praying you weren’t leading them straight to an unsuspecting Bucky. 

You turned the corner and let out a sigh of relief when you spotted the building, only to scream in rage when you saw Bucky being dragged out by at least six agents in civilian police clothing. He was fighting against them, but they’d attached something to his arm and you could tell he was struggling to break it. From the way he was moving you wouldn’t be surprised if they’d drugged him already. 

You raced forward more quickly than they could have anticipated and jumped, letting your momentum carry you forward as you switched from your wheels to your talons. A flying kick both maimed the first man and sent him hurtling over the nearest police cruiser. 

“Fuck, get her! She’s insane!” 

“They must have failed! Call for backup!” 

You barely heard their voices, working through the throng of obviously-not-cops towards Bucky, who was looking at you with huge, pleading eyes. 

“No!” you screamed at him, knowing what he was thinking. You always knew what he was thinking. 

_Please,_ you saw him mouth. His eyes were already going hazy. Whatever they’d given him must have been strong. The chances of you getting out of here with him knocked out before their backup arrived… they were nonexistent.

_I love you_ , you saw him whisper before his head dropped forward. 

You were crying as you ripped through the poor fools between you and Bucky. Still more seemed to stream out of who knew where, but you had a mission and you weren’t going to fail. You couldn’t let him down him. Not in this way. 

_Just one touch. Just one. Then me. Then it’s over._

You told repeated those words in your head over and over again and you punched, scratched, and kicked your ways towards Bucky’s limp body. They’d left him in the street in their attempt to stop you from getting to him. You were an unstoppable force. You could feel more bullets rip through you, but it didn’t matter. None of it matter as long as you could get to him. 

Finally, there was only a few feet between him and you. You charged your right hand, tears overflowing as you looked down at the limp, unconscious form of the man you loved. It was a small mercy that he wouldn’t feel a thing. 

You wouldn’t be so lucky. 

The agents tried to stop you, only to electrocute themselves to death when they grabbed your arm. 

You were so focused on making this one blow to your beloved count that you didn’t see the battering ram headed toward you until it was too late. 

You felt your bones break on the impact and your lungs collapse as you flew ten feet through the air and landed on the cold cement road. Your head hit the concrete hard, your vision blurring dangerously with the mix of what was likely a concussion and massive blood loss. Your charge fizzled out in your hand and you cursed to yourself.

_On your feet. Get on your feet. You useless piece of shit._ You swore to yourself, trying and failing to pull yourself to your feet. 

You got as far as leaning up on your hands and screaming in agony before they descended upon you like vultures. You barely felt the pinch of the needle being shoved into your neck; it paled in comparison to your other wounds. 

What hurt the most, though, was seeing Bucky lying there, not fifteen feet away, unaware that you’d failed and you’d both wake up trapped in the nightmare you were so desperate to escape. 

* * *

> KGB files, Top Security Clearance, 29 March 1973
> 
> Little is known about what Codenames: Winter Soldier did during the two weeks they fell off the grid in New York. It was only through sheer luck that the male was spotted in a flophouse. The woman was spotted by one of our agents at a disreputable spot for mercenaries to gather. Luck. Sheer luck. We tried to lure her into a trap but she escaped, nearly overwhelming the agents that were attempting to take the male back at the same time.
> 
> Yet even after subsequent mental conditioning Codenames: Winter Soldier had no answers for their conduct, or any memory of their time out of our control.
> 
> While troubling, the incident appears to be an aberration, requiring nothing more than closer watch. It is further recommended that in future missions they be excluded from operations on American soil and deployed separately

* * *

> KGB files, Top Security Clearance, September 1983   
> From the Personal Journal of Major General **IIIIIIIREDACTEDIIIIIIII**
> 
> _Against advice, I have taken Codename: Winter Soldier to the Middle East as my personal bodyguard. I am getting old and I know there are only a few years left for me, so I wish to spend them watching this twisted creature defend my life._
> 
> _I almost feel sorry for him, as he tenses up whenever anyone approaches, ready to dive in front of a bullet for me.  
> _
> 
> _It will never make up for what he and his people did to me in the war, how they shamed me in front of my own men, but even after all these years, it still makes me smile to see Captain America’s partner serving Mother Russia.  
> _
> 
> _It is doubly entertaining to watch him look for his little bitch. I could have thawed them both out and ignored the imbecilic warnings of the others, but it is more fun this way. He is easier to handle when he is sad, even if he doesn’t know why. I can see him looking for her, his eyes following women that resemble her._ _  
>  _
> 
> _Let us see what kind of damage he can do to his country’s efforts in the Middle East. These next few years should be amusing. I am glad that Yuri transferred me. To hell with him._

* * *

> KGB files, Top Security Clearance, 4 August 1988
> 
> In accordance with Major General **IIIIIIREDACTEDIIIIII** final orders before his death, Project: Winter Soldiers have been returned to cryofreeze for the foreseeable future. 
> 
> Codename: Winter Soldier (Male) has been placed back into stasis after his years in the Middle East alongside the Major General. 
> 
> No incidents were reported by the Major General, but it is recommended that if Codename: Winter Soldiers are revived from stasis in future, thorough mental re-implantation be done to assure control of the operatives. 
> 
> Codename: Winter Soldiers will be stored in an undisclosed location, along with much of Department X’s abandoned experiments. 

* * *

**December 14th, 1991**

You sat. Waited for orders. Still as a statue. 

You didn’t look at the asset beside you. He wasn’t important unless your handlers said he was. 

Your metal legs glinted menacingly in the light, the sickle and hammer on your shins gleaming like blood. 

You didn’t know how long you sat there, brain working to clear itself from the sluggishness of cryofreeze. Your body had thawed long before you’d regained consciousness, but it still moved like ice flowed through your veins. It would take a day to return to full functionality. You’d checked yourself over upon waking, taking note of each scar marring your skin.

The door opened after what could have been minutes, hours, or days. Time meant little in the tiny cold room with only a light and two cold tables. Neither you nor the other asset had said a word the entire time. 

_“Soldiers?”_ the handler asked, standing warily in the door. He had no cause to be nervous. You and the other asset were dangerous, but you wouldn’t hurt your handlers. His accent was German. Not the KGB, then. Hydra, most likely. You didn’t care, but your brain took note of it anyway. It might be important to the mission later.

[Originally posted by wintersthighs](https://tmblr.co/ZpgCLr2BOtcbs)

_“Ready to comply,”_ you and the other asset replied in unison, voices flat and emotionless. 

 


	20. Chapter 20

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mission Report. December 16th, 1991. Additionally, you and the Soldier are given a new mission: Train the next generation of spies.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Swearing (always), death, murder, brainwashing, blood  
> A/N: You all knew it was coming. **We’re back to Russian being in normal font and other languages being in italics.** The gesture Bucky does is rude in Russia. The nicknames Natasha uses are just random names, but the affectionate form.  
> We’re almost done with GoW.

[Originally posted by philkensebben](https://tmblr.co/ZkRiFe2Pk1X-9)

__“Soldiers?”_ the handler asked, standing warily in the door. He had no cause to be nervous. You and the other asset were dangerous, but you wouldn’t hurt your handlers. His accent was German. Not the KGB, then. Hydra, most likely. You didn’t care, but your brain took note of it anyway. It might be important to the mission later.   
_

_“Ready to comply,”_ you and the other asset replied in unison, voices flat and emotionless. 

* * *

**16 December 1991 - Long Island, New York. United States of America.**

Sanction and Extraction. No witnesses. 

Easy orders if the intel was to be trusted. 

A man and a woman, both in their 70′s. Not likely to be heavily armed. Standard civilian vehicle. No guards. No convoy.

The cargo was to be delivered in secret but news of the plan had been leaked to Hydra. They would be caught completely unawares by you and the other soldier. 

Target: A high-tech formula used to create super soldiers. Five doses. All to be returned to your handler, Vasily Karpov. 

Failure not an option. 

The Cadillac sped down the road, right on schedule. They were going fast for such a small country road, but it was likely they’d had it inconspicuously cleared of other traffic while they were traveling. 

On the other side of the road you saw the headlight of the other Soldier’s motorbike flick on, yours following suit just a split second later. The roar of the engines of your twin bikes drowned out the sound of the quiet night as you tore through the underbrush in pursuit of your quarry, tires kicking up dirt and loose gravel. 

The Soldier reached the car first, just as planned, and fired into the front tire. The man driving immediately lost control and slammed into the nearest tree, putting a very effective and abrupt end to your chase. You came to a stop next to the car and kicked your stand out before sliding off gracefully, barely giving the Soldier a glance as he turned his bike around and headed back towards the crash. 

You put your finger to the lock on the trunk, watching as it morphed into a key that fit the lock. You turned your finger and the trunk easily swung open, revealing two small suitcases and what was most likely your intended target. You leaned forward and opened the hard-shell case; it only took a single glance to confirm it was what you’d been sent to retrieve. All five doses of serum had survived the crash. You snapped the case shut and secured it to the back of your bike just as the Soldier pulled up and dismounted his bike smoothly. 

“Is the package secure?” he asked, tone flat and emotionless. 

“Affirmative,” you said just as coldly.

“The witnesses?” 

“Still alive,” you said, giving the straps one last check before you turned and walked towards the driver side at the same time the Soldier headed to the passenger side. 

The door was open and the man had managed to crawl out of the wreck of a car, though you knew he’d never make it more than a half mile with his injuries at his age. 

_“Help my wife… please… help…”_ he muttered weakly, just barely managing to keep himself on his hands and knees. 

You reached down and grabbed a handful of his hair. His hand flew to yours as you yanked his head up, your knee halfway to his face before you froze. 

He stared at you with… recognition? Shock? You didn’t understand.

_“(Y/N)…?”_ he asked as though he couldn’t believe his eyes. Blood rand down his face and into his mouth but he didn’t seem to notice. 

_“Howard!”_ the woman called out from the passenger seat. _“How-!”_ her voice cut off and you knew the Soldier was finishing the half-dead woman off. Choking, by the sound of it. Efficient. 

It reminded you of the task at hand. You didn’t know why this man had called you that odd name, or why his face had made you pause. 

The mission was clear.

Your metal shin whipped into his face so fast he didn’t even see it coming. The crunch of bone told you that he was probably already dead, but you gave him two more kicks for good measure before lifting him up and placing him next to the limp form of his wife. 

You watched as the other Soldier walked up to the camera and planted a bullet directly in the lens with his pistol. It wasn’t the best way to get rid of the evidence, but retrieving the footage wasn’t part of your mission. You had your cargo, the witnesses were eliminated, and it all looked like an accident. 

All that was left now was to return the serums to Karpov. 

You threw your leg over your bike and kicked the stand up, peeling out of the crash site without a second look back. Halfway back to the rendezvous it started raining. A small part of you found relief in the fact that it would wash away the remnants of your attack, making it seem even more like an accident.

Your mind was empty as you boarded the plane back to the joint Soviet-Hydra base in Russia. Vasily Karpov was waiting on the plane and took the case from you, looking pleased and eager. “Good work, Soldiers.” He turned and headed up to the cockpit. 

You hadn’t been dismissed, so you and the Soldier stood stock-still until the plane landed and Karpov ordered you to disembark. It had been hours, but you barely noticed the passage of time. 

You’d been expecting to go back into the deep freeze or to the chairs, but apparently that wasn’t their plan for the two of you. Not yet, at least.

You watched while a swarm of scientists prepped five subjects. You overheard the scientists talking about what was going to happen and who the people were. You knew the other Soldier was listening, too. He was always listening. 

Deadliest assassin unit in Hydra history. You wondered if they were as good as you and the Soldier. He and you held that title in the KGB, you knew. You watched with a sort of detached awareness as they stuck needles in their arms and forced the blue serum in their bodies. 

Shortly after, the screaming started. 

It didn’t bother you, not exactly. Not in the way it bothered some of the scientists or the guards. You didn’t worry for the patients. You just wanted the noise to stop. It made it even harder to focus.

Then the screaming stopped and the training started. 

They locked the seven of you in a cage with a few guards and scientists and told you and the other Soldier (the other original) to train them. To fight. 

So you fought. You spoke little and got hit a lot. The new Soldiers learned quickly that as long as they stayed clear of your feet it wasn’t particularly difficult to incapacitate you. You weren’t allowed to shock them. In the very back of your mind you found it startling that they managed to pick apart your combat technique in such a short amount of time. 

It pleased the scientists and Karpov.

They absorbed information like a sponge. Eventually not even the other original could keep up with them. They’d been enhanced beyond your and the other original’s abilities. Within a week they’d mastered every move you taught them and then some. 

On the sixth day all hell broke loose. The Five killed the scientists and guards. Korpov ordered you and the other original to escort him from the cage and you did as he asked. He was still your handler, after all. 

You and the other original guarded Karpov for some time after. He barely managed to control the Five. There was talk about putting them in the chair, but apparently they didn’t need it like you and the other original did. You and he were defective. Needed to be corrected often. The others never wavered in their beliefs and love for The Motherland. It was only their blood lust that made them unpredictable. Karpov didn’t seem to care. He could point them in the right direction and watch as they ripped their opponents to shreds. They worked as a team and it wouldn’t surprise you if they could tear apart an entire government in a night. They certainly had the skills before and now they had the power to back it up. 

But Karpov put them on ice. 

And you and the other original followed soon after. 

* * *

**12 June 1994 - The Red Room, Russia**

[Originally posted by my-fancy-world](https://tmblr.co/ZkIgWo25IfFGs)

“молниеносный. Поезд. В поле зрения. Сорок один. Предсказать. путешествие. Боль. Три. защищать. империя.” _Lightning. Train. Insight. Forty-one. Predict. Voyage. Pain. Three. Defend. Empire._  

As soon as he got to the last word the screaming stopped. 

_Your_ screaming. 

The machine lifted from your face and you could tell you were breathing heavily, but you could barely feel your body. The world came back into focus slowly and you blinked against the hard lights pointed directly at you.

“Good morning, Soldier,” the handler said, startling you enough to focus in on him. 

“Ready to comply,” you heard your mouth say. Had you told it to do that? You couldn’t remember. 

“You have a new mission. Black Widow Ops Program. You are to train young agents in the art of stealth, infiltration, and assassination. At the same time you are to evaluate each of them and report the results to the lead scientist. You will not go into cryofreeze during this time, though you will be wiped again if you deviate from acceptable behavior patterns. You will have a small room. You will stay there when you are not working. You will eat meals. You will keep yourself healthy and fit. You will not kill your students unless told to do so. Do you understand?” The man read it off as though he had a list in front of him. It was almost as though they’d gone searching for loopholes. 

They didn’t need to. You’d do whatever they told you to do to the letter.

“Orders received,” you said in that monotone that came as naturally as breathing. Inflection and emotions just brought pain and more mind wiping. Monotone was safe. 

“Good. Proceed to the next room over for your checkup. We need the chair.” 

You nearly asked _for what?_ but quickly tamped down on the question and headed stiffly for the door. “Understood.”

You opened the door silently and moved to go into the next room over, but a flash of movement caught your eye. There, in the room at the end of the hall, a group of young girls were all dressed in ballet dancer’s clothes, moving together with such eerie synchronization that it nearly looked unreal. 

It took you a moment to notice the small smears of blood on the floor. When you looked closer you realized at least a few of the girls were bleeding through their ballet shoes. You looked a moment longer before turning away and walking into the tiny medical room. 

“Good morning, Asset. Welcome to the Red Room.” 

* * *

You stared at the group of young girls before you. They couldn’t be older than thirteen. You had a feeling they’d been here for much longer than that, though. 

And that there had likely been more of them. 

Their usual instructor, a woman that could give you a run for your money on cold demeanor, ordered them to break into groups and spar. 

They all had braided hair and the same shapeless uniforms that made them nearly impossible to distinguish, save for their individual skill levels. 

You watched as one or two of the girls pinned their opponents. They immediately looked to their usual instructor, but when she didn’t so much as blink they released their partner and began again. 

You watched them for some time, picking apart their fighting ability. It was when you’d stopped the fifth pair to correct a girl’s technique that you realized they were killing the ones you’d corrected. 

Four little girls lay dead on the ground, their living fighting partners already going at one another. 

You blinked once, twice, then continued what you’d been doing. You were here to train them, after all. What the Red Room did with their agents was none of your business. They were weak, anyway.

By the time you’d made your way around the room twice, eight little bodies littered the floor. The girls simply fought around them as though it was normal. You supposed that it must be, for them. 

“You,” you whispered hoarsely, pointing at a petite redhead who instantly froze, eyes cold and assessing as they fell to you. “Come here.” 

She marched dutifully towards you and the other girls froze in the middle of their matches to watch. You hadn’t spoken a word yet and they were all waiting to see what you had to say. 

“You will fight me. I will show you new techniques. You will all have them mastered by this time tomorrow.” 

The tiny girl nodded and squared up with you immediately, which impressed you. She was brave. Surely they’d all figured out who you were by now. The fact that she-

No, just there. In her hands. A tremble. She was afraid. Or tired. But she hid it well. You liked this one. You made a good choice. 

You flipped her onto her back and pinned her in under five seconds. She stared up at you defiantly even though it was clear she thought she was about to be killed. 

She raised an eyebrow when you stood and released her from the pin. She hopped up quickly and glanced around as though afraid one of the other girls would pounce on her in her moment of weakness. 

“Again,” was all you said. She set her tiny mouth in determination and came at you full force.

She lasted _ten_ seconds this time.

* * *

None of the other girls died that evening. You didn’t want them killed because they couldn’t grasp a new technique on the first day, regardless of the murderous looks the instructor gave you. 

Tomorrow… tomorrow you might not be able to protect them. It would be best for everyone involved if they mastered them by tomorrow’s session. 

You walked aimlessly through the halls. It seemed your handler was willing to let you wander before curfew so long as you stayed on the property and out of any important areas. It was a freedom you hadn’t been expecting. 

A flicker of light in one of the rooms caught your eye. 

It was a video projector, playing some sort of cartoon you vaguely recognized as Snow White. You didn’t know how you knew that. The girls were talking along with it in a dead sort of monotone that you knew all too well.

The sight made something in the back of your mind feel itchy. You didn’t like it. You left the room and continued down the hall.

The sounds of a fight distracted you and you followed it. You were surprised when you found the other Original in the room with a boy, the two of them throwing punches at the other. It was clear to you the other Soldier was holding back. There was no doubt in your mind he could send the younger man flying across the room or snap his neck in an instant if he wanted to.

You knew he’d sensed you from his body language, but the kid hadn’t. Not yet. 

The Soldier moved so quickly you nearly missed it, pinning the man to the thin mat on the floor. “You leave yourself open. You’re too angry. Stay focused.” Then, without turning around, “You should not be here, Soldier. He is mine to train, not yours.”

The younger man’s head swiveled to stare at you, shock and anger lining his features. Not only had he lost, but he’d lost in front of you. He was obviously humiliated and angry.

“I did not know you were here, Soldier,” you said, question implied in the statement. 

He finally let the kid up and turned to face you, shoving the kid away easily when he tried to tackle him while he wasn’t looking. “They have brought me in for the experimental Wolf Spider Ops Program. The counterpart to the Black Widow program.” 

“You have one pupil.” 

He frowned, the most emotion you’d seen on him for as long as you could remember (which wasn’t a very long time). “It is experimental.” As though that explained everything. The kid tried to attack him from his blind spot again and the Soldier merely swatted him down like a fly, his eyes not leaving you for an instant. 

You tilted your head as you stared at the two of them. It was almost… _humorous_ watching the small boy try to take down the trained assassin. 

“Good luck, Soldier,” you said by way of goodbye, turning and heading back to the tiny, cold cell they’d given you to live in. 

You could feel his eyes follow you until you disappeared around the corner.

* * *

They’d locked you in, but they did a piss-poor job of it. You picked the lock in under a minute.

You whispered through the halls like a ghost until you finally found the girls’ room. You picked that lock, too, and snuck in silently, taking careful note of which ones had awoken and which ones hadn’t. 

A few of them had good senses and pretended to stay asleep, but it wasn’t hard for you to see the difference between those truly asleep and those pretending. 

You wondered if any had a makeshift weapon hidden on their person. 

A gleam of metal in the moonlight caught your eye and you glanced down at the girl nearest to you, frown deepening at the handcuffs attached to her wrist. They all had them. 

It must be uncomfortable. 

The KGB was as protective of their assets as ever, it seemed. They wouldn’t let any of the girls leave here alive without them being completely trained and obedient. 

* * *

You liked the little redhead. She reminded you of someone, though you didn’t know who. You weren’t supposed to remember anything, so you didn’t search your brain to try puzzle it out. She was quiet, skilled, cunning, and quick as a whip. 

You told the scientists as much, knowing it would do no good to lie. They murmured amongst themselves for some time. You heard the words “chair” and “wipe” and “feelings” but your report and her skills backed up your claims and they eventually let your assertion slide, much to your relief. You hated the chair. Knowing it was here kept you on edge. They probably knew how much it unsettled you, too.

“Anything can be a weapon if you have a sharp mind and move quickly. It doesn’t have to be tangible. More often than not, it is knowledge of your target that is the deadliest weapon of all. Knowing what their weak point is and exploiting it is not always the quickest or even the easiest way to kill a person, but it is the way that is most likely to keep you alive or get you what you need or want. If you need to kill a man and determine his family is his weakness, use them to draw him out. If it is a thing or a place, that is even easier. Study your target. Learn everything you can about them. Be ready for anything they may throw at you, but never assume you’ve learned as much as you can. When you assume you know everything- that is when you die.”

The girls all stared at you. Some of them seemed shocked by how much you were just talking, but others seemed to be thinking hard on your words. 

“It is easiest to survive if you do not have a weakness,” you said after letting your message soak in for a bit. “Grow attached to nothing and no one and they will never see you bleed.”

* * *

The other Soldier was sometimes found on the roof when it wasn’t snowing out. He wasn’t bothered by the cold, but you weren’t quite so fortunate. 

“I trained with them today. They are weak,” he said by way of greeting.

“They are _little girls_. They are physically weak, but their skills have improved tenfold since I began training them.” Was he trying to insult you?

“Yes, I know. But I knew all of their moves because _you_ taught them.” He almost sounded amused, but that may have just been your imagination.

The two of you sat there quietly for some time, watching people bustle back and forth quietly. The girls walked by some time later and only one of them spotted you; the little redhead that was your most promising student. 

“That one was the most propitious,” he said, jerking his chin towards her. She’d already looked away, constantly scanning her surroundings. 

You nodded in agreement. “Natalia.”

“What?” he asked, finally turning his pale blue eyes on you. 

“Her name is Natalia.” 

He stared at you. “You shouldn’t grow attached to them.”

You shrugged. “I had to learn their names so I could give detailed reports on each of them. Not all of us are fortunate enough to have only one pupil.”

“I can trade you, if you want,” he said dryly. 

You side-eyed him, but he was staring at the sunset in the distance with a careful casualness. “No. They’ll do better learning from me. You use your size and strength to your advantage when you fight. None of these girls will ever have that, at least not to your degree. It’s best if they learn from me… though you’re welcome to come lose to me any time you desire. I’m sure it would be an enlightening lesson for them.”

His mouth twitched up at the corner and then returned to its straight line so quickly you were almost sure you’d imagined it. You hoped you’d imagined it, or you’d have to report it to your handler. Emotions were not allowed. “It’s a deal. They should know how to fight opponents that are bigger and stronger than them.” 

You thought about it for a second before nodding. “You’re correct.”

The two of you sat together until curfew, neither of you talking or even looking at each other… but it didn’t matter. Having him close was comforting. 

But then you remembered your words to your pupils earlier and jumped off the roof and headed to your room without looking back. 

_No weaknesses._

* * *

They didn’t keep you awake for the entirety of the training program. They woke you up once a year and kept you awake for a month or two. 

Each time you woke up there were fewer candidates remaining. 

Every year, though, Natalia was there, looking as collected and deadly as ever. You watched as she practiced her shooting on live targets. She was just as accurate on the real thing as she was with dummies and paper.

She danced until her fleet bled but still she didn’t fall. 

She was marble. She was unbreakable. 

* * *

It didn’t come as a surprise to you when she was the only candidate left when you woke up a year later. 

It was 2002, if the whispers you heard around the compound were to be believed. 

Your training with Natalia was one-on-one. 

Well, mostly one-on-one.

While you’d slept the Wolf Spider Ops Program had been scrapped. You couldn’t explain the panic that set deep in your bones when you heard the news, nor the icy calm that followed after when you learned that the other Soldier would be helping train Natalia with you instead. 

“Again,” the other Soldier said again. You had Natalia pinned under you, her labored breathing barely registering. You broke apart at his words and she gulped air in greedily, green eyes burning holes through the back of your head. She stood stubbornly and took her stance immediately. 

“Do you need water?” you asked, looking her up and down, eyes cold and assessing. 

“No.” 

The other Soldier was already tossing you a bottle of water, though. “Drink,” you said holding it out to her. “Or at least rinse and spit.” 

She glowered at you and stared at the bottle like it was a trick, a snake about to strike. She grabbed it from your hand quickly and kept her eyes on both of you as she took a few tentative sips and swished some around in her mouth before spitting into a bucket in the corner of the ring. She threw it back to the other Soldier, who grabbed it out of the air with his metal hand with that frightening quickness of his. 

“Ready?” 

“I was ready to begin with,” she snarked, body wound tightly as a coil ready to spring. 

She lasted the full round. 

“Time,” the other Soldier said, glancing at the clock on the wall. 

Natalia was panting heavily and you yourself were breathing a little heavier than normal. You found it agreeable that she’d come so far in the time you’d known her. 

No, that wasn’t quite right. There was more to it.

Pride. This is what pride felt like. 

You glowered at the realization. Pride was an emotion. A bad one, at that. Tools weren’t supposed to feel anything, and that’s all you were: A tool to be used as the KGB and Hydra saw fit.

The other Soldier must have noticed your sudden change in mood because he stepped into the ring. 

“My turn.” 

His voice brought you out of your thoughts and your wary glaze flicked to him. Did he know that you were _feeling_? He’d tell the handlers if he knew and then you’d have to go back in the chair. 

His gaze was trained on Natalia, though, so you stepped quickly out of the ring, trying your best to act as you normally would. “Begin.” 

* * *

[Originally posted by avengers-of-mirkwood](https://tmblr.co/ZtjM9i23JSNSV)

You walked silently into the room Natalia had sequestered herself in, small loaf of bread clutched tightly in your hand.

She noticed you almost immediately which you appreciated, as her trainer. Your lessons hadn’t gone to waste. 

You climbed up into the ring, walking across the mat with silent steps. “Eat,” you said simply as you sat down next to her, feet dangling a few feet above the ground.

“I should have known you’d realize I was missing from the dining hall,” she said quietly, eyes glued to the snowy woods outside the compound. She was resting her arms against the second rope from the bottom which curved minutely under the slight weight of her arms.

“It’s my job,” you said quietly. It was the truth. 

Most of it, at least. 

The full truth was that being out of cryo so long that the cold emotionless exterior was beginning to fade. You’d developed an attachment to Natalia, no matter the risks. You found yourself looking out for her more than you should have. More than was prudent for a trainer. Watching her grow up, nurturing her in your own way… she was the closest thing you’d ever get to having a child. 

She mattered to you.

You… cared about her. 

But no one, not even Natalia, could know that. 

You felt _his_ presence but Natalia apparently hadn’t because she tensed when he sat down on her other side. She forced herself to relax but you knew he’d noticed. 

“You need to be more aware of your surroundings,” he said quietly.

She didn’t dignify his admonishment with a response. 

You broke the bread into three pieces and passed them to the other two. 

Even as the Soldier swallowed his first bite he chastised, “you’re not supposed to remove food from the dining hall.”

You didn’t bother to look at him. There was a beautiful sunset just outside and the large window in the gym allowed you to observe the view without dealing with the biting cold. “Then I’ll take your piece.” 

In response, the Soldier shoved half of the piece in his mouth and ran his tongue flatly over the rest.

Natalia finally looked away from the window, an amused half-smile on her lips. The sight made you happy, though your face remained cold and emotionless. Natalia rarely smiled, except when she managed to pin you or land solid hits on the other Soldier. “That’s what I thought,” you said dryly. 

He shoved his thumb between his index and middle finger and chewed loudly in a way that had to be purposeful. 

Natalia wrinkled her nose and punched him lightly on his shoulder (lucky for her it was his right one). “Shut your mouth while you chew, Yashenka.” 

“My name isn’t Yashenka,” the Soldier said quietly (he’d thankfully swallowed first). 

“We’ve been over this. You don’t have a name so I gave you one. Calling both of you ‘Soldier’ is stupid.” 

“Tools don’t have names,” you said softly, eyes glued to the ground. Somehow, no matter how many times it was cleaned, some of the bloodstains simply didn’t wash out. 

Natalia shrugged and nudged you gently with her shoulder. “You’re not tools, Mashenka. You’re my teachers.” 

Her somewhat flippant words and the tones she spoke them in belied the affection behind the nicknames… and the fact that she gave you names in the first place. 

Neither you nor the Soldier had anything to say to that. 

_No weaknesses_ , you wanted to tell her.

Instead, you sat and watched the sunset with Natalia and ate your bread.

 


	21. Chapter 21

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You and the other Soldier continue training Natalia. Of course, all good(?) things must end and you and the young spy part on less than amicable terms. It’s back to business as usual for you and the other Soldier after that. In other words, killing for your masters.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Swearing (always), death, blood, guns, fighting, torture  
> A/N: And we’re done with Ghosts of War. It’s been… a time.

[Originally posted by wlwhc](https://tmblr.co/ZXih2e2PKM_JW)

_“Tools don’t have names,” you said softly, eyes glued to the ground. Somehow, no matter how many times it was cleaned, some of the bloodstains simply didn’t wash out.  
_

_Natalia shrugged and nudged you gently with her shoulder. “You’re not tools, Mashenka. You’re my teachers.”  
_

_Her somewhat flippant words and the tones she spoke them in belied the affection behind the nicknames… and the fact that she gave you names in the first place.  
_

_Neither you nor the Soldier had anything to say to that.  
_

_No weaknesses, you wanted to tell her.  
_

_Instead, you sat and watched the sunset with Natalia and ate your bread._

* * *

You stood in the shadows at the foot of Natalia’s bed. She knew you were there, of course. You never really hid from her anymore unless you were trying to test her. 

Natalia had passed every test you’d ever given her, though. Her body and mind were deadly weapons and woe to anyone who tried to stop her. 

She glanced up at you from the spot on her bed, hands not pausing in their task of sharpening her collection of blades. 

“Not that I don’t enjoy your company, but you’re not usually one to hover, Mashenka,” Natalia said quietly. Her voice cut sharply through the sound of stone against steel. She held the dagger up critically, looking for any signs of burred edges. 

“I’ve told you not to sharpen your tools on your bed. You’ll end up with metal shards in your skin while you sleep,” you said dispassionately. She passed every test yet still practiced stupid habits like this one. It infuriated you. 

She seemed to ignore the admonishment, though, and continued working. “I doubt you came here just to tell me that.” 

No, it wasn’t everything you wanted to say. Try as you might, however, you couldn’t form the thoughts, much less the words. Every time you tried they slipped away. “You’re graduating soon.”

Natalia nodded and set one of the daggers aside, apparently satisfied with its deadliness, and picked up another. “The headmistress says I’m the most promising student she’s ever seen.” Without looking up, she added, “Probably because you and Yashenka trained me.”

You shook your head. “I trained all of the other candidates, too. It is only _you_ that has survived to make it to this day. You are special.”

Natalia looked up at you then, her eyes cold and searching in the way that told you she was on guard and confused. It was only because of the amount of time you spent with her over the years that you spotted the scared little girl underneath. “… You shouldn’t say things like that, Mashenka,” she whispered so quietly you could barely hear it. You knew any hidden microphones wouldn’t pick up her words, not over the sound of her sharpening her blades. 

She was right, of course. She was smart enough to figure out what the chair in that small room behind that steel door was for. She knew what happened when you didn’t listen to the handlers or voiced opinions of your own.

Which is why it was absolute madness that you kept talking. The moment of clarity cut through the haze of your foggy, damaged mind like one of Natalia’s knives. “Run away, Tashenka. Run. While you still can. Don’t let them touch you.”

The microphones would hear you. 

They’d come for you.

You had minutes at best.

Seconds at worst.

Natalia stared at you, wide-eyed. You could tell she was looking for the hidden test in your words. 

You surged forward and clasped your hands to her shoulders, ignoring the blade that she pressed lightning-fast to your neck. It bit lightly into your skin, but you barely felt it. 

“Please, Natalia. Escape. Do what I cannot. You will regret staying. You will see them for what they are. Run. _Please!_ ” you pleaded, voice strangled. You could tell you were scaring her. It was the first time you’d used her name to her face. This madness could kill her by association, too, and she knew it. 

She was eighteen, but still a kid. So, so young.

So much blood already on her hands.

It wasn’t her fault. She didn’t deserve it.

You could tell by the look in her eyes, though, that you hadn’t reached her. Even as she relaxed and nodded, you knew her too well for her tricks to work. You shook your head quickly, a litany of protests leaving your lips. “No, no, no, listen! you have to-”

“It’s alright, Mashenka. I understand. We can escape together. Let’s go now,” she said, removing the dagger from your neck and placing it safely in her boot. 

“No, Natalia! I know what you’re doing! It won’t-” you pushed away from her, but she pounced on you, obviously trying to restrain you. 

“Guards! In here! The Asset is having a break!” she yelled, voice cold and detached. 

You were able to fight and keep her from getting a pin on you, but unlike Natalia you weren’t going for a disable. You didn’t want to hurt her. She needed to escape. Escape before-

Natalia’s door banged inwards and in streamed a small horde of heavily armed guards. They narrowly avoided your and Natalia’s punches and kicks and all it took was Natalia distracting you for a split second to let a guard to get a clean shot with the needle. 

It plunged deep into the meat of your thigh and even as you pulled the empty syringe out you started to feel its effects. It was working too quickly. This was for the other Soldier.

“You stupid fucks gave me the wrong-”

The room faded to black around the edges.

You were unconscious before you hit the floor. 

* * *

**Natalia’s POV**

She stared hollowly at your prone form on the cold medical table. Thick insulated metal clasps restrained your arms and legs. They’d even taken the liberty to bind your head down with a leather strap. 

More tubes than Natalia wanted to bother counting were shoved in your arms. Some were red, some clear, and she subconsciously took note of what was what. 

Between that and the conversation the scientists hadn’t bothered hiding, Natalia knew what was happening. 

Yashenka’s serum was too unstable to duplicate, but yours wasn’t. They were taking nearly endless blood samples in an attempt to recreate it. Brute force science, but it was yielding results if the scientist’s exclamations were to be believed. 

She knew she’d receive a dose when she graduated. Prolonged youth and enhanced reflexes. Even the scientists weren’t exactly sure what the full effects were, but 70 years of results were hard to argue with. Once they were reasonably sure the mental issues weren’t attached to the serum, they’d begun tests immediately in an attempt to recreate it.

“017.” 

Natalia turned her attention from your unconscious form to the headmistress, who’d aged over the years, but still managed to do her hair the same way every day; a tight bun without a single hair out of place. The only difference now was the streak of grey through the dirty blond locks.

“Headmistress?” Natalia asked, voice and posture calm as ever. 

“The scientists had a breakthrough. We’re going ahead with your surgery as soon as possible. Report to medical for your orders.” 

Natalia bowed deeply. “By your leave, headmistress.” She could feel the woman’s beady eyes on her as she walked away, but Natalia’s mind was still back in her room less than forty-eight hours ago.

Your frantic face, full of more emotion than Natalia had ever seen. Your slightly-glowing eyes nearly brimming over with tears you didn’t notice. Your clammy hands as they grasped her shoulders. 

You didn’t follow your own advice.

“No weaknesses, Mashenka,” Natalia promised, voice cold. She would be unbreakable. Not even her Yashenka and Mashenka would sway her heart. 

Even though-

Natalia bit down on her tongue so hard it nearly drew blood. 

She took a deep breath and squared her shoulders before walking through the medical room’s doors. A small team of scientists and doctors were waiting for her, already prepared for surgery. Natalia was thankful they’d told her to start getting ready yesterday. She wanted to get this over as quickly as possible so she could begin serving the Motherland. 

“Good morning, 017. Congratulations on making it to the last phase of the Black Widow Ops Program. Lie down on the table and we’ll begin at once.” 

* * *

**2009 - Outside of Odessa, Ukraine**

It was mind-boggling how much Natasha’s life had changed in just the last seven years. She went from being one of the most feared [brainwashed] Russian spies in the world to an attack dog for an organization based out of the United States. 

At least she was doing good now.

Said organization- SHIELD, Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement, and Logistics Division- was the reason why she was in ass-end of nowhere. Well, not nowhere. Half hour outside of Odessa. But it may as well have been the ass-end of nowhere. Backup was at least a half hour away and if the people she thought were following her actually were, she’d be long dead by the time it arrived. 

Natasha managed to kick the door of the upturned vehicle open, tried her best to ignore the blood dripping down her forehead and into her right eye, and clambered out. 

When had this whole thing gone down the shitter? Natasha tried to piece together the moments before the crash.

_Only one car, less conspicuous than a convoy. She was the best of the best at SHIELD, so backup shouldn’t have been needed. The escort mission was top secret and only Level 8s and above knew about it beside Natasha and Clint.  
_

_Country road. Little traffic. Made it easy to spot bogeys.  
_

_Pursuers out of nowhere, two motorbikes. One male, one female.  
_

_Too fast to escape.  
_

_Run off the road. Down a cliff.  
_

_Robot-like coordination. Flashes of silver and red._

Natasha was on high alert. She instantly drew her pistols, scanning the trees and the cliff above, somewhat blinded by the sun. It was purposeful, she was sure. If this was _them_ , they never did anything without reason. 

The glint of sun off a metal drew her attention and she aimed her pistols and fired without a second thought. The nuclear scientist she was protecting- a man by the name of Doctor Dean Shen- flinched and ran behind her, spooked by the fire. She was used to the lab coats running from gunfire. He was safer behind her anyway. 

The figure on the ridge moved quickly, too quickly, before Natasha had even pulled the trigger. By the time the bullets reached where the shadow had been, the figure was already twenty feet away. 

Natasha cursed and followed it with her line of fire. 

If she had any doubts, they were quickly cast aside. 

_Mashenka._

Your silver and red legs glinted menacingly. The fire from the jets in your heels were two bright spots in the shade of the trees you were weaving through. 

The report of a rifle rang out in the valley, but the noise barely registered because the bullet had already torn through her stomach, near her left hip. 

_Yashenka._

She hadn’t kept track of him. Rookie mistake. She knew how they worked. She should have known better. 

The sound of something heavy dropping to the ground drew her attention and she nearly cursed when she saw Shen’s lifeless body slumped in the dirt, a bullet hole perfectly between the man’s eyes. 

She clutched at the gaping hole in her stomach with one hand and held a pistol up determinedly with the other. She was trying her best to stay conscious. She wouldn’t let herself become prone, not with two ruthless predators circling her, the scent of blood in the air. 

A flash on the ridge caught her attention and she pivoted and fired shots straight towards the movement. The sound of bullets meeting metal echoed through the canyon, the sound high and grating on her ears. With her pistol empty, she raised her hand to block out the worst of the sun.

You stood on the ridge, the bright sun blocking Natasha from seeing any details.

But she knew exactly what she’d see if she could. Light blue eyes, dark brown hair, metal arm. Intricate circuitry inlaid in skin, two deadly metal legs, eye ringed by glowing lights. So familiar she can almost imagine them on the almost shapeless figures on the ridge. 

The two of you stood side by side, staring down at her from your perches at the edge of the rocky crevasse. Natasha could just make out a huge rifle strapped to the back of Yashenka. 

She would not cower. If she went out it would be face to face with her attackers, with her trainers, the people who loved her before she knew what love was. 

She closed her eyes, tilted her chin up defiantly, and waited, regret tingeing her thoughts. She’d hoped she’d find you two one day. Get you out. Put a bullet between your skulls if it meant you wouldn’t suffer anymore. _Anything._

But you’d found her first. There were worse ways to go. Yashenka would make it painless. Single bullet to the brain pan. 

The bullet never came, though. After a few seconds Natasha opened her eyes, squinting against the sunset. 

Where you’d been a moment before was now empty space. Not even the sound of motorcycles heralded your departure. 

Natasha collapsed to the ground, heart beating fast and breathing labored. 

She hadn’t been your mission. You _never_ left your missions unfinished. Whoever was using the two of you now hadn’t thought to tell you to eliminate witnesses. It was pure luck that she was alive right now. 

_“Tasha! Tasha? Report, damnit!”_

Natasha groaned and used the last of her energy to clamber over to the upside down car and grab the SHIELD communication device out of the glove box. 

_“I’m here, Clint,”_ she said quietly. 

_“Report! You called for backup! What’s the situation?”_ he asked frantically. 

_“Run off the road by hostiles. Survived the crash, but they got my ward anyway. Shen is dead.”_

_“Shit,”_ Clint swore. Natasha could practically see him pacing in the rafters. _“Are you hit?”_

_“Affirmative. Extraction would be ideal before I bleed out,”_ Natasha said dryly. 

_“Understood. Medical’s on its way along with the backup you requested. Did you identify your attackers?”_ Clint asked, obviously talking to other agents while on the phone with Natasha.

Natasha blew out a long breath of air, wincing as her stomach clenched painfully. Damn, that was a lot of blood. _“You’re not gonna like it.”_

_“Just tell me, Tasha. I’m a big boy. I can handle it,”_ Clint argued.

_“The Winter Soldiers.”_

A pause, then, _“Well, fuck.”_

* * *

**2014 - Washington D.C., United States of America**

“молниеносный. Поезд. В поле зрения. Сорок один. Предсказать. путешествие. Боль. Три. защищать. империя.” _Lightning. Train. Insight. Forty-one. Predict. Voyage. Pain. Three. Defend. Empire._

“Soldier?” 

You stared up at him, eyes cold and brain barely functioning. “Ready to comply.” 

The man with the little red book nodded. He spoke Russian with a slight accent, but the words were still quite clear. “You understand English, yes?” he asked.

You nodded and he smiled, although it didn’t reach his eyes. 

_“Good, that makes my life much easier. I fear my Russian is a little rusty. If you’ll be patient I think we-”_

_“Secretary Pierce, the other one is awake, too,”_ said a nervous-looking agent from the doorway. Nervousness was normal around you and the other Soldier, so you weren’t worried about the reaction. 

_“Good, good. Send him in. I’ll only have to give the orders once this way,”_ the man- Pierce- said, giving that same smile that reminded you dully of a snake. 

The other Soldier was dragged in a moment later, held between two of the biggest guards you’d seen so far. You knew you’d have to be moved that way too if it came to it. The freeze hadn’t worn off yet. They practically threw him into a chair beside you and it groaned under the strain but managed to stay upright and in one piece. 

_“Your mission: Assassination. I know you’re used to working in the shadows, but this mission calls for the target’s immediate death. You’ll be given whatever you need, don’t worry about witnesses. Kill anyone who gets in your way, but he is your only target.”_

He held a picture up and your eyes scanned the file beside it.

Fury, Nicholas J. 

_“Level 6 target. I want confirmation of death within ten hours of cryofreeze fatigue wearing off. He’ll be well guarded. Your best bet is to kill him when he’s traveling, but I’ll leave that for you to determine. You two are, after all, the ones with the experience here._ ” He set the file down on the small table in front of you and stood. _“Understood?”_

_“Mission orders received,”_ the two of you responded in unison. 

He smiled that dangerous smile again. _“Good. I eagerly await confirmation of his death.”_

He turned and left the room without another word, leaving you and the other Soldier alone with a small guard. Little boxes lined the wall and a large circular door easily clued you in to where they were keeping you: a bank vault. It was a good choice. You and the other Soldier were dangerous. It made sense to keep you somewhere safe that also had the ability to keep you contained. 

An hour later you were suited and booted, both of you armed to the teeth. They spared no expense, it seemed. A mask hid the bottom half of your faces and goggles protected your eyes. They may not care about witnesses seeing you, but they seemed determined that they not be able to identify you. Even your legs and his arm were covered.

Wordlessly, you and the other Soldier left the depths of the bank, both of you wary at the sunlight and hordes of people on the street. The comms in your ears chattered incessantly about the status of your target. 

You glanced to the other Soldier who turned to you as if out of reflex. You shared an almost imperceptible nod and slipped into the shadows. 

[Originally posted by retardell](https://tmblr.co/ZhZAnh26PupoV)

 

 


End file.
